


First 30 Days

by ShanaRHager



Category: Super Mario & Related Fandoms, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Redemption, Romance, Sequel, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2020-09-27 18:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 238,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShanaRHager/pseuds/ShanaRHager
Summary: Patch 1.1.1 is live.  Project Nerf is a success.  But was it really worth it?  The men and women behind this scheme must now wrestle with the morality of what they've done.  But as Mario's search for answers and desire to protect his sibling bring him into direct conflict with Master Hand, several characters are desperate to keep Project Nerf under wraps, even if they have to play dirty to do so.  Rated T for alcohol use and intense action violence.





	1. Prologue: The First Hours

** _Zero Hour_ **

Wednesday, September 30, 2015 began as a lovely autumn morning. Small, popcorn-shaped clouds dotted the sky, heralding the rising sun. Parents packed their kids’ lunches and saw them off on the school bus. The freeways were jammed as people headed off to work. Those who preferred not to drive scrambled for a prime seat on the buses, the light rail or the subway, which proceeded to whisk them off to their place of business. Joggers wearing brightly-colored workout apparel ran through parks and dew-glittered lawns as birds sang and swooped gracefully above them. Bicyclists soared past the city streets, some wearing safety gear and some not; passersby grabbed the day’s newspaper, curious over the latest scoop. The outdoor pools were closed for the season, but the indoor pools were still open, and if you were close enough, you could hear the _splash_ as people dove in and swam laps. Out on various lakes and creeks, rowers moved in sync as they guided their boats through the water. The outdoor basketball courts and soccer fields were filled with people wanting to play a few games before it got too busy.

But in the Smash Mansion, this ordinary morning was also a special morning. A new update patch, patch 1.1.1, had just been released, applying buffs and nerfs to select fighters. Unbeknownst to most, a secret group had lobbied for one of the Smashers to be nerfed. And the target of that nerf? The Smasher in question’s down throw, the starting point for many of his combos.

6:12a.m. had marked the end of those combos.

The nerfed Smasher’s copy of the patch notes now lay splattered on the carpet floor of his room. A few feet away, two figures, one short and a little squat, one tall and a little thin, knelt on the floor in a tender, brotherly embrace. The shorter one wore a red shirt, light blue coveralls, white gloves, brown boots and a red ball-cap with a “M” emblazoned on the front. The taller one was clad in a green shirt, navy coveralls, white gloves, brown boots and a green ball-cap with a “L” emblazoned on the front. Surprisingly, the shorter one was the eldest of the two, albeit by only a few minutes, as well as the most famous. The taller brother was rarely acknowledged for his contributions. But we’ll get to that later.

Mario “Jumpman” Mario bit his lip for the umpteenth time, concern and compassion in his blue eyes, as he hugged his younger twin close, combing his fingers through the other’s brown hair with one hand while rubbing the small of his back with the other hand. He hated seeing his sibling in pain, physical or emotional. Both had tried to prepare for this as the complaints got out of hand. They’d tried to be ready. But the red bullet point announcing the nerf had been a staggering blow, nonetheless. As soon as he heard his brother’s cry, Mario had dashed to his room and saw him on his knees, head bowed, patch notes falling from his slackened hands. And then he’d done the only thing he could to soothe his pain—hug him.

It took a while, but it worked. Mario smiled at his baby bro as he recovered in his arms. First, his body ceased to shake. Second, his breathing started to even out. And finally, his muscles began to relax. Mario planted a kiss on the other man’s forehead, feeling himself relax, as well. The hug had done its job, and the pain was receding. His bro would pick himself up, and life would go on—it just wouldn’t be the same.

“ ’M sorry.” The man in green’s voice was muffled against Mario’s chest and jerky from crying.

“Luigi…?” Mario spoke softly as his brother looked up, face wet and eyes a bit dimmed.

“I shouldn’t be crying about this,” Luigi explained, wiping his face with his sleeve. “I wasn’t the only Smasher nerfed in this patch. It’s just…”

Mario nodded. “I should be the one apologizing, L.”

Luigi blinked. “What for?”

“I should’ve seen this coming. Everyone was giving Master Hand a hard time about it. And—what _that bird_ said to you…”

Luigi shushed him. “Nobody saw it coming. This isn’t your fault,” he said reassuringly, but it did little to ease Mario’s guilt.

“I’m supposed to defend you from all of this, and I didn’t. Lil’ Bro—I let you down…”

“Hey,” said Luigi. “You can’t protect me from everything. Besides, I’m not a little kid anymore. I can handle myself pretty well.”

Now, it was Mario’s turn to cry. “Do you remember—the vow we made, after our _mamma_ died?”

“That we’d always look out for each other, no matter what.”

“Well, I haven’t done a good job lately,” sniffled Mario. “I was so preoccupied with Smash-related stuff that your situation slipped under my radar. And I’m never gonna let that happen again.”

“You had no way of knowing that I was about to be nerfed,” Luigi said gently. “Just as I had no way of knowing, or Peach or Rosalina or Yoshi. MH tells us when the patches will be released, not who’s going to be nerfed or buffed.”

“But this patch came after you took flak from your down throw,” Mario told him. “Do you really think it’s just a coincidence?”

Luigi frowned lightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that this nerf was the result of someone pulling the strings,” said Mario, his tears drying as the beginnings of anger began sweeping through his soul.

Luigi understood almost instantly. “You think that this was an elaborate scheme to hurt me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Assuming that was the case, then who would want to do that?” Luigi wanted to know. “And why?”

Icy fury had dispelled the softness from Mario’s face, and a menacing flash came to his eyes. His voice audibly lowered a few octaves as he looked straight at Luigi and declared, “I’m gonna find out.”

**1.1.1**

**To your soul…**  
To your soul…  
Cry…  
Cry…  
Cry…

**You leave in the morning with everything you own in a little black case  
Alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face…**

**Mother will never understand why you had to leave,**  
But the answers you seek will never be found at home  
The love that you need will never be found at home…

**Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away…  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away…**

**Pushed around and kicked around, always a lonely boy…  
You were the one that they'd talk about around town as they put you down**

**And as hard as they would try they'd hurt to make you cry…**  
But you never cried to them, just to your soul  
No, you never cried to them, just to your soul…

**Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away (crying to your soul)**  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away (crying to your soul)  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away (crying to your soul)  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away…

**Cry, boy, cry**  
Cry, boy, cry  
Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry  
Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry

**Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry**  
Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry  
Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry  
Cry, boy, cry, boy, cry…

**You leave in the morning with everything you own in a little black case  
Alone on a platform, the wind and the rain on a sad and lonely face**

**Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away**  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away

**Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away  
Run away, turn away, run away, turn away, run away…**

**-Bronski Beat, “Smalltown Boy”**

** _T plus 2 hours_ **

The Smash Mansion had a commuter train system which ran from 4a.m. to midnight, serving many stops in its affiliated universes. You could get where you needed to go in a comfortable seat, pillows and blankets available upon request. The café car was located in the middle of the train, and at the end of the train was the full-service dining car. The seats on the train were unreserved, meaning that you could take any of the commuters to your destination. There was even Wi-Fi on the trains! These commuters were obviously modeled off of Amtrak’s Capitol Corridor route.

Some Smashers decided to take advantage of these commuters to run a few errands before the day’s matches began. But you could find non-Smashers aboard the trains as well, the majority of them wishing to reserve seats for whatever matches they wanted to spectate. If you were on a train, and your main opted to take the seat next to you, then it was your lucky day.

By 8:45a.m., one commuter was packed with Smashers returning to the Smash Mansion. They lounged in their reclining seats, reading on-board magazines or fiddling around on their cell phones, or mainly gazing out the window as the world outside rushed by, sipping on coffee, tea or juice, thinking about the day ahead of them.

In one of the train cars sat a particular group of passengers, sneaking occasional glances at each other. Quirks of smiles and slight nods passed from one to another. They had some clue of how this day was going to go, for this was a day 30 days in the making. To them, today marked the beginning of a new age. A day without pesky combos, and thus, a better chance of winning over a certain man in green. These passengers were the conspirators of an endeavor known as Project Nerf. With a little help from the inside, these conspirators succeeded in convincing Master Hand to alter Luigi’s down throw so that his combos were no longer viable.

The three brothers who led Project Nerf, ironically, weren’t Smashers. They were just three ordinary men, who, for some reason, didn’t like Luigi very much. Presently, they were seated in the first row of the train car. The eldest had wavy, neatly trimmed black hair and wore glasses, but was still very handsome. The second-eldest had curly, shoulder length black hair and wore black-rimmed glasses. And the youngest had short, black hair and wore brown-rimmed glasses. Their names, from eldest to youngest, were Vince, Manny and Shane.

Not a word was spoken between the three, but the triumphant smirks they shot one another said plenty. They recognized many of their fellow conspirators, but couldn’t afford more than just a knowing look or two in their direction. They couldn’t risk the wrong person hearing about their exploits.

They didn’t need advertising or force to recruit people to their cause. After almost a full year of Luigi’s combo game, these Smashers and hard-core gamers decided to step up to the plate and take control. Once they reached out to the three brothers, Project Nerf lifted off from the launchpad. And there were a few surprises along the way.

The first Smashers to jump aboard were Marth Lowell and Roy Lycae. The former was the blue-haired Prince of Altea whose admiration for Luigi had fallen by the wayside, and the latter was the Red Lion who gave his boyfriend his full support. Mewtwo, they psychic Pokémon, had nothing against Luigi—he just joined because why not? He also tried to recruit other Smashers, succeeding with Dark Pit and a Mii named Kyle. Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Kyle and Dark Pit were also seated in the car with the three brothers, acknowledging them with smiles and winks every so often but tuning everything else out with earbuds in their ears.

Lounging in a window seat was a totally unexpected addition to Project Nerf—Falco Lombardi. The ace pilot of Star Fox used to be friends with Luigi until a fateful matchup on Smashville. Frustrated, the avian blew up at Luigi over his “stupid f—ing combos”, and the plumber was justifiably hurt by the tirade. Initially, Falco tried to apologize and repair the friendship, but the frustration continued to simmer, culminating in Falco checking out a website dedicated to ragging on Luigi, where he discovered Project Nerf. After reaching out to Shane via email, he began attending the meetings, ultimately becoming the primary contributor to the plot. From convincing the Smashers to adopt a professional tone when complaining to Master Hand to personally meeting with Sakurai, the tournament’s financier, to arrange a sit-down with him and MH, Falco helped the three brothers accomplish their goal by the end of the month.

Meanwhile, the recruits kept coming and coming. Rolf, two guys named Steve, Chase and King Koopa (which wasn’t a surprise). A family of four. Of the many conspirators, only one had backed out. But a shocking ally had pulled him back in at the end—and his name was Crazy Hand, Master’s twin brother!

The Hand of Destruction had secretly funded the endeavor and provided food and lodging to the conspirators while slowly swaying his twin to see things their way. Due to his status as the assistant master of ceremonies, he had to remain a behind the scenes player. But when one of the conspirators bailed, CH ensured his cooperation for the next scheme the three brothers had in mind by retaining the evidence of his earlier involvement. All CH had to do was make a phone call to Mario, and the fellow would spend the rest of his days sleeping with one eye open. Unless, of course, he played by the rules.

The two Steves were seated behind Falco, dressed in matching magenta wrestling singlets. Rolf was seated next to Falco, eating a fish sandwich (fish was his favorite food). Chase sat next to Shane, noshing on French toast sticks. Koopa sat near the rear of the car, working on a breakfast meal of scrambled eggs, sausage links, pancakes and a biscuit, with a pitcher of cranberry juice to wash it down. The family of four wasn’t present, as the two kids were in school, the father was at work, and the mother was running errands. But they’d also contributed heavily, especially the eldest child and the mother.

Finally, the train arrived at the Smash Mansion, and everyone disembarked. The Smashers headed to the schedule tacked on the bulletin board in the Main Hall for a quick glance at their opponents. Nearly all of them were scheduled to fight Luigi sometime today. Faces broke out into matching smiles. They could hardly wait.

**1.1.1**

** **

** _T plus 3 hours_ **

The Mii ushers saw nothing suspicious about the three handsome, glasses-clad brothers as they admitted them into the Spectator Area. Armed with food and drinks, Vince, Manny and Shane carefully walked down the steps to the first row and made themselves comfortable in the three middle seats. A very blatant mockery of Mario’s favorite spot whenever Luigi was in a match. Luckily for them, Mario was seated on the other side of the stage. And as the stage lights flashed on, the three brothers sat back, relaxed and prepared to savor the fruits of their labor.

They weren’t disappointed. 

Most of the Smashers who had long been subjected to those down throw combos went into their bouts against Luigi with their proverbial guns blazing. The man in green had a debt to pay, and by God, they ensured that he paid it! It was their turn to dominate the fight from start to finish, their turn to own him with blow after blow and wipe the floor with his derriere. Over and over, Luigi’s muscle memory would turn on him, and he’d butt-slam opponents to try and set up combos which no longer existed, leaving him wide open. Shane, Vince and Manny roared with laughter as Luigi was thoroughly curb-stomped over and over and over again, and they were in good company. Falco was one of the Smashers not fighting Luigi today, so he took refuge in a seat next to Vince, watching his own prophecy come true. His former friend was being knocked off his pedestal, and he was enjoying every second of it. When the other conspirators were finished with their battles, they snagged a prime seat to watch their buddies have their turn. Every time Luigi reflexively tried a combo, they took a shot. They jeered, shouted snide comments, blew raspberries and even flashed him. But they dared not get physical. There was a specter breathing down their necks, and his name was Mario. If someone physically assaulted Luigi, then Mario would find out. If Crazy Hand could use Mario to wrangle that one defector, then the man in red was a big deal, indeed.

“Yeah! Not so tough now, are you?” guffawed the two Steves as they double-teamed Luigi in a free-for-all. Ah, the free-for-alls were the best, where they all could bite back the hardest. Disagreements were temporarily shelved in favor of whaling on the green-clad plumber to their hearts’ desires. The fruits of Project Nerf were plentiful, and the conspirators scheduled to fight Luigi that day ate their fill and found it delicious.

Luigi didn’t make it easy for them, though. He wasn’t one to throw in the towel just because of some nerf, and he never went down without a fight. They had to hand it to him, he fought his hardest and even managed to land quite a few good ones—he still had his Super Jump Punch, his Cyclone and his Green Missile, and he was famous for those moves long before those combos. The Cyclone had even been buffed a bit. But that muscle memory of his decided to be a pest and throw him off course, and that was how the opponent got the drop on him. He was beaten through and through, but he’d never succumb to self-pity. Never.

In contrast, his detractors were in Heaven. This a—hole had trounced them for far too long. Now, _they_ were lining up to trounce this a—hole. The last day of September was turning into a d—ned good day.

**1.1.1**

** _T plus 7 hours_ **

“On your left.”

Dutifully, Luigi let the young woman pass as he continued to run laps around the Smash Mansion. Since his usual getup wasn’t suitable for such strenuous exercise, he presently wore a pair of green and white leggings, a green sun visor and no shirt. His skin was hot and flushed, and he was dripping with sweat, but he just kept running. If he stopped, then it would all catch up to him. This was definitely certain.

It was just after lunch, and so far, he hadn’t won a single match. He just needed to get used to his nerf. He wasn’t non-viable. They were all laughing at him, but they wouldn’t be for long. Just wait till he clocked in a few hours in the Training Room. He was going to pick himself up if it was the last thing he ever did!

“On your left.”

There was the woman again. Sleek, blond hair in a ponytail. Turquoise, glittery sneakers. Black and aqua leggings. Light-blue sports bra. Wireless earbuds. She was new here; Luigi hadn’t seen her before. One thing he _did_ know about her—she was faster than him. He’d lost count on how many laps he’d run so far, but he knew she ran more laps than him!

Luigi didn’t care. He was immersed in his run, slowing only to take a swig of Gatorade. His thoughts were a grayed-out blur. His emotions, translated into much-needed energy. His limbs pumping and the autumn wind across his face, back and chest. A perfect release until his next bout.

“On your left.”

The woman passed him. Her run was graceful—long strides with long legs. Her ponytail was coming lose. Should he warn her? He shouldn’t interrupt her. He went back to his run, deciding to plug in his own earbuds and play some good running music. Luigi ran some more laps, and there was nothing but his breathing and his music and the woman saying, “On your left.”

“I know,” he murmured after what seemed like the billionth time. “On my left.”

The next time he sensed her approaching, he blew out a puff of air. “Don’t say it. Don’t you say it…” he warned.

“On your left.”

“Mamma mia!” What was this woman’s secret?

After two more laps, Luigi’s run was finished. He rested against a tree, eyes closed, catching his breath, draining his bottle of Gatorade.

He opened his eyes to see the young woman sitting on a bench, sweat-drenched and just as winded, taking a few gulps from her own sports drink.

“I should’ve eaten an extra Mushroom this morning,” he quipped. “Maybe I would’ve taken you then.”

The woman chuckled. “No doubt,” she said. “They have me grinding greens and kale into slush. Tastes nasty as heck.”

“You should try a Shroom Shake,” said Luigi. “It comes in vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, cookies-n-cream, even mint. But your greens and kale slushie worked wonders. How many laps did you run, two hundred? And you’re only mildly tired?”

She shrugged. “Guess I got a late start.”

“Really? You should run an extra lap, just for that.”

Both laughed.

“Unless you just did it already.”

They laughed harder.

“You—you’re one of the Original Twelve,” the woman said finally.

“Indeed, I am. You’ll probably recognize my brother before me, though.”

“No,” said the woman.

Luigi raised an eyebrow.

“I already recognize you. You’re Luigi. I’m a—very big fan, and I’ve spectated these Smash tournaments from the very beginning. These tournaments allow you to display a—stronger—side of yourself. And the fact that you use your greatest fears to become a stronger person is admirable. You’re better than you’re given credit for.”

“Thanks,” blushed Luigi.

“We haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Charlotte Thorne, and I just joined this tournament. I officially start tomorrow morning.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlotte,” said Luigi, offering his hand.

“You, too, Luigi,” said Charlotte, shaking the proffered hand. “My nickname’s Charlie, so you can call me that if you wish.”

“Okeydokey, Charlie.”

“Hey, uh—how are you holding up?” Charlie ventured after a beat. “I mean, after—what’s happened?”

Luigi grinned broadly. “It’s the end of an era,” he said jovially, “but it’s not the end of the world. In time, I’ll adapt to it. That’s the trick, isn’t it—adapt?”

“Dr. Mario set up a quiet lounge on the second floor,” said Charlie. “There’s tea, cider, cookies, snacks, music—even a few hot tubs, steam rooms, showers. Heck, you can even take naps or even sleep in there. They have everything.”

“Hm. Thanks for the tip.”

“I just can’t believe it, though. Did they really pressure Master Hand into nerfing you?”

“It wasn’t just me,” Luigi told her. “Other fighters had their mechanics altered. But the timing behind this is too much of a coincidence. Mario thinks foul play in involved.”

“Foul play? I can see that,” murmured Charlie. “If it turns out to be true, then what’s Mario’s plan of action?”

“Whatever it is, it won’t bode well for the culprit,” mused Luigi, “but right now, we don’t know if it’s foul play. And frankly, I’m not worried about that right now. My top priority is tailoring my strategy in light of this nerf. I’ve taken a heck of a beating so far.”

Charlie smiled. “I like that you’re not moping over being nerfed, like the majority tends to do.”

“Well, I’m not the majority,” winked Luigi. “Times have changed, and I’ve got to change with them. Feeling sorry for myself isn’t going to change anything.”

Luigi and Charlie turned as a go cart approached them. At the wheel was a little Mii in a Mario cap and a cute dress. Her name was Lauren Smythe.

“Hey, Luigi,” said Lauren. “Your next match is coming up!”

“Thanks, Lauren,” smiled Luigi. Turning to Charlie, he said, “It was lovely meeting you. I hope to see you on the Battlefield.”

“Likewise,” nodded Charlie.

They shook hands again, and then Luigi hopped aboard the go cart. Charlie watched, fascinated, as he and Lauren rode back to the Smash Mansion.

“Godspeed, Luigi,” she murmured.

**1.1.1**

** _T plus 9 hours_ **

It was well into the afternoon when Luigi decided that he wasn’t going to think about it anymore.

He was now in the Training Room, in one of his overalls and no shirt, his phone hooked to the stereo and playing workout-appropriate music. His opponents had been even worse than this morning! Every chance they could, they rubbed his nerf in his face! And Koopa, of course, was the cherry on this f—ing sundae, gloating about how easy it would be to carry out his sinister plans. The plumber had battered them all good, but he’d still lost. That was when he’d retreated to the Training Area to blow off steam, to think, to focus and ponder his next move.

Outside, Mario stood at the window, hands on the windowsill, lightly bouncing up and down on his toes. “Yeah. Yeah,” he whispered. “You got it, Bro. You got it.” Luigi was far from the broken man he’d held in his arms earlier this morning. He’d cried it all out—and then went back to work.

He felt a gentle, yet firm, touch of a dainty, gloved hand on his shoulder and stilled his bouncing. Looking up, he smiled at the beautiful, fair-haired Mushroom Princess standing beside him. Peach had swapped out her usual pink dress for a green one, even deciding to apply green eye shadow. She rubbed the small of her plumber’s back, further soothing him.

“Hey,” she said consolingly. “He’ll be all right.”

“Today has been rough on him so far,” Mario said quietly. “He’s only managed to win a few of his bouts. Everyone else—practically ripped him to shreds.”

“Yeah, but—he’s not letting that slow him,” Peach pointed out. “Look at him. He’s knows that self-pity won’t do him any good. Now, if only everyone else followed his example…”

“I get you,” grumbled Mario. “Their moping and sulking and whining at Master Hand is what got my bro into this mess. But he’s muddling through, soldiering on, even though a good chunk of his combos were taken from him. Watching him right now—is getting me so wired.”

“I can see that,” said Peach, “but you have to keep a level head. For him.”

A beat. Then, Mario spoke up.

“I could’ve done something about this, you know. It was coming from a mile away. The rants in Master Hand’s office, the Miiverse posts, the general salt. And I—just didn’t want to believe it.”

“Hey,” Peach told him. “We all gave it the benefit of the doubt. This isn’t your fault.”

Mario’s eyes glistened. “That’s almost exactly what Luigi said.”

“Luigi is telling the truth,” said Peach. “Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“Easier said than done, Peachy,” said Mario.

“What—aren’t you telling me?” Peach wanted to know, raising an eyebrow.

“I think that—Luigi’s nerf may have been deliberately planned,” said Mario. “I mean, it’s too much of a coincidence. MH only met with Sakurai after so many people reamed him out, and the fact that Sakurai agreed to a patch so quickly…”

“Why would it be a plot? And who would be behind it?”

“A lot of people don’t like Luigi’s increased popularity and want to ‘remind him that he’s still Player Two’,” huffed Mario. “As for who would mastermind this plot, if there was in fact a plot, I can rattle off a list of suspects.”

“Okay, then maybe we can talk to Master Hand later and see what he thinks,” offered Peach, unsettled by the look in Mario’s eyes.

“The same Master Hand who submitted to the hateful salt?”

“Look, Mario—I don’t want you to do something stupid,” warned Peach.

“Like go after those who dared hurt Luigi?”

“And do something you’ll regret.” Peach wrapped her arms around Mario’s waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. “You want to look out for Luigi, and so do I. But you need to concentrate on him first. His well-being should be your main priority.”

“It _is_ my main priority.”

“Well, then, what would he think if you started throwing punches at people without any solid proof that they antagonized him?”

Mario sighed. Peach made a good point.

“Like I said, Master Hand is likely to launch an investigation if we tell him,” said Peach, giving Mario a kiss on the cheek.

They watched as Luigi sailed through the air and into a Sandbag.

“Wow. Look at him,” Mario said quietly. “He’s taken a beating, and yet he’s picking himself back up. That’s my bro.” He leaned into Peach’s touch as he continued to watch his baby bro.

After a while, the fog cleared away from Luigi’s mind, and he started thinking about some of the good that had come out of this patch, besides the aforementioned buffs to his Cyclone. His d-air, which could spike opponents, had a larger hitbox, for example. His movements became more fluid and coordinated. The stormy expression on his face gave way to a focused, determined one. And as he continued to weave from Sandbag to Sandbag, dishing out blows, he resolved not to waste any more time fretting and worrying about what the nerf would do to his playstyle, or fuming and mulling over what would’ve been. Here, he was going to get the last of that crap out of his system, and then he was going to look ahead with a positive attitude.

And once he switched to a new playlist, Luigi _really_ started to think. It was what he’d told Charlotte earlier. This wasn’t the end of the world—it was just the end of an era. If he stopped treating his nerf like a bad thing, then he could retool his playstyle in order to accommodate it. His old down throw combos were gone, but there wasn’t a rule against making _new_ combos. Come to think of it, the new combos were already there, hidden in time but waiting for him to discover them. Once he cleared out the wreckage of the old combos, the new combos would poke out their little heads and say, “Hi, Luigi! Come and use us!” As long as he worked with the nerf, he’d be able to dream up these new combos, practice them, hammer them out, and ultimately embed them into his strategy, just like the old ones. These thoughts gave him strength and confidence like never before, and through the window, the two spectators also felt that strength. The nerf on his down throw had closed one door, but opened another.

He heard a familiar voice, shouting to him in English and Italian. That chipper falsetto sent a comforting warmth through his heart. Luigi was down, but by no means out. He had his brother’s love and the support of friends and fans, and they would walk through that door together. He whaled on the Sandbags with newfound strength, thinking nothing but positive, encouraging thoughts.

_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this._

Good times ahead, indeed.

**1.1.1**

** _T plus 12 hours_ **

Eden Christopher leveled another spoonful of macaroni and cheese into her mouth as she browsed the Internet on her phone. All social media outlets and blogs were lit up today, and she knew why. Patch 1.1.1 had ushered in sweeping changes to the Smash tournament. A new stage based on Super Mario Maker had been created. More popular posts were more likely to appear on the Miiverse stage. But Eden’s mind was stuck on one change, and one change only—Luigi’s down throw nerf.

This morning, Eden had been the one assigned to personally deliver the patch notes to the green-clad plumber. She remembered the knot in her stomach as she approached Luigi’s door. The smile on his face as he greeted her, the way he thanked her when she gave him his copy. But most of all, she remembered hearing his exclamation of disbelief a full minute after she continued on her way. Twelve hours later, Eden felt personally responsible.

She sneaked a look at Luigi as he sat at his usual table, calmly eating his meal. He seemed a little better. Most Smashers would react like this to a nerf. They’d be upset for a bit, and then they’d tell themselves that life would go on, and thus they should, too. But this seemed—different.

Throughout this tournament, frequent update patches were released to keep the fighters balanced. But there was something—off—about this patch. Luigi had taken the brunt of it, and Eden felt as if the other fighters were altered to keep up appearances. And talk about a nerf had come out of the blue, after nearly a month of conniptions over the plumber’s combo game. Master Hand’s, er, hand, had been forced in this matter, she could feel it.

Eden sighed and turned back to her food. In Luigi’s lexicon, she would always be The Redhead. No, no redheads so as much as just The Redhead. She was The Redhead who brought his old world crashing down to its foundation. Luigi wasn’t the kind of person to hold things against people, but Eden was still worried. She had to make this up to him somehow.

“Hey, Eden?”

“Hmm?” Eden turned to see Lauren slide into the seat next to her.

“A coin for your thoughts?”

Eden tucked her dark red hair behind her ears. “I’m a bit worried about Luigi,” she said. “He’s putting on a happy face, but…” She shook her head. “You weren’t there when he saw that bullet point. You didn’t hear him cry out. _I_ did.”

“I heard Mario running into his room to comfort him,” said Lauren.

“You don’t understand,” said Eden. “I gave him those patch notes, and then I left him to bear the news alone.”

“Master Hand had you on a route, and on a tight schedule, to boot,” said Lauren. “Don’t beat yourself up over this.”

“I—can’t help but think I played a role in this,” murmured Eden, briefly fiddling with her print dress. “Of everyone else, why did Master Hand have to pick me?”

“Listen,” said Lauren. “Luigi knows that you’re not responsible. Maybe tomorrow you can go talk to him, and you’ll see.”

Eden perked up a little. “You really think so?”

“Totally!” Lauren bit into her sandwich. “And quite frankly, it’s Mario you should start fretting over.”

“Mario? Why?”

“He thinks there’s something sinister behind this patch,” Lauren explained.

“Well, it’s a plausible suspicion. I’m smelling something fishy about it, too,” said Eden.

“Eden, all I’m saying is—Mario is a ticking time bomb,” warned Lauren. “You know how he gets when someone goes after his lil’ bro.”

Eden couldn’t help but shudder.

“Like after Falco blew up at Luigi. That bird avoided him for weeks!” Lauren sneaked glances at Mario as she spoke. “Eventually, Mario took the high road and forgave the guy, but now that Luigi was nerfed, it’s a matter of how long he can keep to that resolution.” Off of Eden’s look, she added, “You’re safe, because you didn’t actually hurt L. But Falco and Koopa…”

“Koopa? What for?”

“Well, for being Koopa. And Dark Pit and Mewtwo and Roy and Marth—I have a feeling about them. They were having a ball, trouncing Luigi today. I think they know more about this than they’re letting on. God help them if Mario figures it out.”

“Hey, Mario’s a nice guy,” said Eden.

“It’s the nice guys you have to watch out for,” mused Lauren, “because the man in red is also a d—n good fighter and super strong. He also has a strong sense of loyalty, too, so if anyone messes with the people he holds dear, then the best thing to do is pray for their soul.”

“Tell me about it,” said Charlotte, joining the two women at the table.

“Eden, have you met Charlie? She’s an old friend of mine,” smiled Lauren.

“Hi, Charlie! Welcome to Smash,” greeted Eden.

“Thanks,” said Charlie. “Hey, uh, is Luigi gonna be okay?”

“Honestly—I don’t know,” Lauren solemnly intoned. “Only time will tell. And as I just told Eden, Mario deserves your attention more.”

“Mario wasn’t nerfed this morning,” said Charlie.

“That’s not what I mean,” said Lauren.

The realization soon came to Charlie. “You—really think he’ll…?”

“I _know_ he will,” cautioned Lauren. “The only question is—when?”

The three ladies continued to sneak wary glances at the Mario Bros as they finished their dinner.

**1.1.1**

** _T plus 15 hours_ **

While everyone else was fast asleep, Vince, Manny and Shane hosted a dance party at their luxurious estate. The Smashers who’d participated in Project Nerf, along with the other conspirators and miscellaneous invited guests, lined up at the front door to be welcomed by two men in tuxedoes. Once inside, the partygoers were given a nametag, and the real fun began! They chowed down on BBQ wings, cocktail wieners, deviled eggs, egg rolls, nachos, and a large assortment of cakes, pies and ice cream. Various bars were scattered around the property, serving up more spirits than you could shake a stick at. And once everyone was done eating and drinking, they could dance it off on the huge dance floor. Manny kept disco, 80s, 90s, 2000s and contemporary pop hits going on the brothers’ stereo, holding dance contests every two hours.

Marth and Roy danced cheek to cheek and body to body whenever they were on the floor together, getting racier with their moves the more they imbibed. Falco had tongues wagging with his breakdancing moves, and he won most of Manny’s contests. With his psychokinesis, Mewtwo brought a whole new meaning to the word “moonwalk”. Dark Pit yelled for Manny to start spinning some Eminem tunes, to which Manny happily obliged. Kyle, Chase and Rolf danced in perfect synch when “Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It)” played. And Koopa—he was a villainous turtle, but boy, could he cut a rug!

Everyone cheered when Manny started spinning some Latin tunes. At that point, a snazzily-dressed man with jet black hair streaked with gray, olive skin and gray eyes escorted his auburn-haired wife onto the floor for a romantic dance. The wife melted right into it, matching her husband’s steps perfectly, her blue eyes locked onto his. She was clad in a little red dress with red low-heeled pumps, and light makeup was applied to her face. They’d been married for nearly twenty years, but tonight, it felt as if they were discovering each other all over again.

Peals of laughter rang out as their two children joined them on the dance floor. The teenage son was attired in a suit and bow tie, while the seven-year-old daughter wore a cute dress with stars all over it. The two siblings attempted to mimic their parents’ moves, with varying success. Said parents couldn’t help but smile over at them. For once, brother and sister were getting along, but thanks to Luigi’s combos, that wasn’t always the case.

The Bainbridge family—Theo, the dad, Vanessa, the mom, Ethan, the son, and Anna, the daughter—became involved in the intrigue twelve days into Project Nerf. Falco had personally recruited them after discovering how badly Ethan struggled against Luigi players. His frustration had significantly strained family get-togethers, but throughout this adventure, Vanessa saw opportunities to improve her relationship with her son. One suspension from school was all it took for Ethan to see the folly in his behavior and learn how to be a better sportsman. No more did he pick on or tease Anna or get physical with anyone who made fun of him for being overwhelmed by a Luigi player. All of that was over for him. Project Nerf helped shape Ethan Richard Bainbridge from a spoiled, entitled brat into a responsible young man. He spent less time playing video games and more time playing with Anna, riding his bike and socializing with his friends. He was honored to have helped out in this endeavor, and now that Luigi was toned down, he could learn to like him, to play as him and to play against him.

For Vanessa’s part, she’d gotten her book club involved and started a telethon during the final stage of Project Nerf so that Sakurai and Co. would have everything they needed. She also undertook a risky mission to retrieve crucial information with Steve’s help, showing off her prowess at hand-to-hand combat. She’d barely managed to escape, and Steve took the fall for her actions. The rest of the family circulated petitions, participated in marches and helped lobby Master Hand, among other things, even hosting the suits in their home. Already, they were feeling the effects of Luigi’s nerf. More quality time together was merely the tip of the iceberg.

After a few more songs, everyone cleared the floor, making way for the three brothers who led this affair. Manny threw off his DJ headphones and joined Shane and Vince in shrugging off their blazers and busting a move to “Stayin’ Alive”. The other conspirators formed a circle around them, shouting encouragement and clapping along to the beat. It felt so good for the three to cut loose. Thirty days of hard work and suspense had finally paid off, and the world of Smash was none the wiser to their manipulations. They would all go back to their day-to-day lives without those stupid combos to worry about, and there was the promise of going on brand new adventures together. In November, for example, they’d start laying the groundwork for Operation Ballot Box, which involved the Smash Fighter Ballots and a certain Sarasaland princess.

The brothers finished their dance to cheers from the other partygoers. At this point, the festivities began winding down. The guests were encouraged to take some food home with them, and goodie bags were passed around. Lyft and Uber drivers began pulling up to the driveway to get sloshed partygoers home safely, while Vanessa and Theo, who hadn’t imbibed, piled their now-drowsy kids into their minivan and headed home. Once the guests had departed, Vince, Shane and Manny, along with the household help, tidied up the house and shared one final toast to patch 1.1.1 before turning in for the night.

A new age had truly begun.


	2. T Plus 1 Day

September was now in the rearview mirror, and it was time to usher in the month of October. Young children made heaping piles out of the vibrantly colored fallen leaves and jumped into them, only to rearrange the pile and repeat. Temperatures were a bit nippy in the morning, and you could see people walking around in jackets and sweaters and boots. It was expected to be a fairly sunny day, with a chance of light showers during the night.

Today was also the first full day of the new update patch. The shock had worn off, and now it was up to the Smashers to tailor their strategies to the changes made. However, the majority aimed to take advantage of the changes applied to one Smasher in their midst.

Spirits were generally bright as the Smashers sat down to breakfast. One table in the courtyard was occupied by the fighters involved in Project Nerf. Located next to a frosted-over windowpane, they could safely talk about their plans for the day, as well as for the coming month.

Falco blew on a spoonful of peaches-n-cream oatmeal before leveling it into his mouth. “I’m telling you guys, I still can’t believe it,” he said.

“Believe what? That we actually did it?” asked Dark Pit.

“Well, yeah, and that in retrospect, what I’d said to him that day was true,” explained Falco. “The Smashers got tired of his f—ing combos and did something about it.”

“But you still didn’t expect us getting help from the inside, did you?” asked Marth.

“I can honestly say that I didn’t expect Crazy Hand to be on our side, at all,” admitted Falco, “but it was a welcome surprise, for sure. If it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t have gotten this done in a month.”

“And if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have gotten Sakurai to contact Master Hand,” said Rolf.

“Yeah, Falco,” Roy said warmly. “We’re proud of you.”

“Hey,” said Falco. “Had to do what I had to do.”

“Anyone look at the schedule yet?” asked Kyle.

“Not yet,” said Chase.

“I can’t wait to see who gets to take their shot at Luigi today,” giggled Kyle. “Oh, boy, is this great!”

“Say that again,” said Steve.

“Maybe we’ll get another chance to double-team him,” said the other Steve, who went by “Stevie” to avoid confusion.

“I’d sure like to double-team him with someone sometime,” grumbled Dark Pit.

“He deserves it,” added Rolf.

“Hey,” Koopa spoke up. “Wanna come over to my castle tonight and celebrate some more?”

_Again?_ asked Mewtwo.

“We were almost caught the first time,” said Roy.

“That’s because I had Peach over,” said Koopa. “I won’t do the same this time.”

“How about tomorrow night?” suggested Falco. “We just partied last night.”

Koopa nodded. “Even better,” he said. “I promised our three friends their own slice of my kingdom, including their own castles. I have to finish getting my paperwork in order.”

“Maybe we should get them something, too,” mused Marth.

“Good idea,” said Chase.

“They helped us, after all,” said Stevie.

“But we helped them, too. Project Nerf was their brainchild,” said Falco. “And this—the opportunity to finally score a win or two over Luigi—is a reward in and of itself.”

“Hear, hear,” said the others.

“Just—be careful, all right?” cautioned Falco. “We don’t want to arouse any suspicion.”

Silence.

“But—we destroyed the evidence,” said Chase. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Blabbing about it in the open is evidence enough,” said Falco. “Remember, loose lips sink ships.”

The occupants of the table exchanged looks as thoughts of a certain man in red descended on them.

“Okay, enough of that,” said Falco, breaking the tension. “Let’s get a jump on the day.”

“Great idea,” said Koopa.

“I’m in!” sang out Kyle.

They disposed of their trash and left the cafeteria, headed toward the bulletin board in the Main Hall.

“Looks like we’re the first ones here,” said Koopa as they crowded round the day’s matchups, scanning the paper for their names.

Kyle gave a shout of joy. “I’m fighting him!”

“Mewtwo and I are in a free-for-all with him!” laughed Rolf.

“I’m fighting him again!” exclaimed Koopa. “Awesome!”

“And I’m his first match of the day!” cackled Dark Pit. “Are you guys gonna watch or what?”

“You’d better believe it,” said Falco.

“How about you, Falco? Are you fighting Luigi?” asked Marth.

“Nope.”

“You don’t sound too upset,” said Roy.

“I’m in no rush to fight him,” shrugged Falco. “You guys…?”

“I’m his second-to-last,” said Marth.

“Hey! Look at this!” shouted Chase. “Look at that plumber’s last match of the day!”

Everyone obliged—and gaped.

“It’s that turncoat!” hissed Marth.

“You guys,” said Falco. “I think he had a good reason for leaving. Not that I’m defending him or anything.”

“No sense wasting your anger on him,” Koopa said brightly. “Crazy Hand’s got him under control. He got him to sign on to our next scheme. It’s the perfect revenge.”

“I still can’t wait to face him on the battlefield,” said Marth.

_We all share that sentiment,_ Mewtwo put in.

“But for now, let’s enjoy the blessings Project Nerf has given us!” said Roy.

“I gotta get ready for my match,” said Dark Pit. “See you guys!”

“See ya!” With that, the group dispersed to prepare for their own matches.

**1.1.1**

_Why, oh, why did I ever get mixed up with those a—holes?_

Chad Wrainwright repeated that question over and over in his head. It had been playing on loop since those patch notes came in yesterday. Why did he decide to get salty rather than practice? Why did he throw in his lot with those three brothers? Why did he think that Luigi needed a nerf anyway? Why, why, why?

He could hardly hold his razor steady as he shaved last night’s stubble from his face, leaving behind his now-trademark Van Dyke beard. Then, he combed and brushed his dark hair and trimmed his eyebrows. Chad was a pretty handsome man, with an angular face, square jaw and tall, muscular physique. After peering at his reflection, he pulled on a pair of blue jeans, a gray, long-sleeved shirt and black sneakers with white stripes on them, followed by a sports watch.

Staring at himself in the mirror again, Chad felt at ease. Maybe this would all blow over soon, and the Mario Bros wouldn’t have to know.

“Chad, you are one good-looking S.O.B., and you’ve also got a lot of heart,” he said to his reflection. “Don’t you ever forget that.” He winked at himself before heading to the cafeteria.

Peaches and cream oatmeal and fresh fruit were on the menu this morning. Chad got himself a piping hot bowl of the former and carefully steered his tray toward an open spot. It was then that his eye fell on—her.

She was a platinum blond young woman, tall and slim, wearing a dark turquoise top and a lavender undershirt with a turquoise skirt and purple ankle boots. A sparkling, silver watch was on her wrist. Blue-green eyes were lined with dark eyeliner, lashes accentuated with mascara. Light makeup was on her heart-shaped face, her plump lips sparkling with light pink gloss. Presently, she daintily skimmed off the top of her oatmeal and blew on it before leveling it into her mouth.

Chad realized that his mouth was agape and quickly closed it. “E-excuse me, miss,” he said nervously.

The woman’s eyes met Chad’s gray ones. “Hi,” she said.

“Is it okay if I sit here?”

She smiled. “Sure.” She scooted over, making room for him.

Chad placed his tray on the table before settling into the spot next to her. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome.”

“My name’s Chad, by the way.”

“Mine’s Charlotte, but you can call me Charlie. Today’s my first official day as a Smasher.”

Chad grinned. “Welcome,” he said.

“How long have you been here?” asked Charlie.

“Since November of last year. This is my first Smash tournament. Before then, I was a spectator.”

“Did you ever want to be a Smasher?”

Chad bit his lip. “If you could say that,” he said. “I was trained in a lot of fighting styles, but—the idea never came to me until recently.”

“How does it feel to be part of this tournament?”

“It feels like it’s helping me mature,” Chad said honestly. “How about you?”

“It’s been a dream of mine, too. You want to know why?”

“Why?”

Charlie pointed in Luigi’s direction. “Him.”

Chad’s stomach lurched. “Him?”

“I’ve watched him, tournament after tournament, sporting event after sporting event, kart race after kart race,” explained Charlie. “I heard about the times he deliberately put himself in danger to save Mario. Despite what people say about him, he’s a hero in his own right. And I want to defend him from the hate he’s getting.”

“Luigi _does_ inspire others,” conceded Chad.

“Like with this patch. His down throw was nerfed, and he was a little upset a first. But he wasn’t down for long. Most of his life, he’s gotten back up and journeyed on.”

“Yeah,” Chad said distractedly.

Charlie looked at him. “Something on your mind?” she asked.

“Charlie—there’s something I have to tell you,” said Chad.

“Okay.”

“I’m flawed. I wasn’t always a nice person. I used to be—an entitled brat. I’ve done things that I’m not necessarily proud of.”

“What things?”

“I used to party hard, guzzling alcohol and—worse things. It got to the point that I couldn’t even enjoy a simple cheeseburger anymore. So, around 2003, I started cleaning up my act. Unfortunately, I still had a bit of a short temper, and my first instinct was to get salty over things. I joined the fourth Smash tournament, hoping that I’d become a better man, but let me tell you, it wasn’t easy.”

“It never is.”

“I—hate to have to tell you this, but—I used to be a total jerk to Luigi. For some reason, I thought I was better than him. And I used to complain to Master Hand about him. One day, we were paired in a Team Battle, and I just—sat back and let him do most of the fighting. Afterward, I was shaking hands with our opponents, who were friends of mine, when I saw the look on Luigi’s face. He looked so—exhausted and so broken. And that was when everything changed. The next day, I apologized to him, and I’ve been working to earn his friendship since.”

“Some of the people here didn’t think highly of Luigi initially,” said Charlie. “You see that costumed racer? He used to be a smug S.O.B back in the day because of some tier list. And that vulpine over there? He used to look down at Luigi. Both of them changed their ways. Others—don’t.”

“Maybe the other salty people who whined about Luigi will change their ways, like I did,” Chad said hopefully.

“Yeah,” said Charlie. “Maybe.”

There was a comforting beat between them.

“You’re really opening up to me,” Charlie said finally. “Why?”

“I just—have a feeling about you,” Chad replied. “So far, you’ve been a good listener.”

“Sometimes, it pays to listen,” said Charlie.

“Maybe—we can meet up again sometime?”

Charlie blushed. “Sure. Uh—let me give you my number.”

“Thanks,” said Chad as he, too, blushed.

The two exchanged phone numbers, and then Charlie finished her oatmeal.

“It was lovely to meet you, Chad,” she said as she dumped her trash into the nearest bin.

“Same here, Charlie.”

She tossed him a wave, and Chad watched contentedly as she walked out of the cafeteria.

**1.1.1**

After breakfast, Chad returned to his room, swapping out his long-sleeved shirt for a more comfortable tank top and slid on a pair of workout gloves to protect his hands. Now clad in more fight-worthy attire, the New England native strode to the Main Hall to look at his schedule. His stomach dropped when he saw the day’s final opponent—Luigi.

_Does he know?_ _Does he suspect me? I didn’t even try to hide my contempt_. Chad let out a breath. Even after turning over a new leaf, he didn’t consider himself among Luigi’s friends. No doubt, Luigi was still thinking about how Chad used to treat him. Things like that didn’t just automatically go away. Like with Falco’s little outburst. Both Mario Bros had let go of their anger the day before the nerf, but Chad could only wonder how long they could keep to that resolution.

“There he is. There’s the turncoat!”

Chad whirled. Standing there were the two Steves, wearing matching looks of extreme hate.

“Hey, I don’t want any trouble, all right?” Chad said calmly.

“Oh? The traitorous ex-member of Project Nerf doesn’t want trouble?” sneered Steve. “We trusted you, man! You had a lot of potential!”

“Potential I could use elsewhere,” said Chad, “and furthermore, what gives you the right to harass me?”

“You bailed on us, and you’re treating that as something heroic,” spat Stevie. “Now, you’re embarking on some epic quest for redemption. You really don’t think it’s that easy, do you? Cutting us out of your life, and suddenly you’re the good guy?”

“I don’t think like that at all,” snapped Chad. “Hardly a day goes by when I’m not haunted by my actions. In fact, you should be happy I ‘bailed’! Your so-called operation was dragging me back into a dark place!”

“Oh, of course—your dark and troubled past as an irresponsible party animal,” said Stevie as he and Steve advanced on Chad. “Y’know, frankly, we don’t give a d—n about your little redemption quest. We treated you like a brother, and you grievously betrayed us. Because—what? Luigi gave you puppy-dog eyes after that Team Battle?”

“It wasn’t like that!” barked Chad. Lowering his voice, he said, “It wasn’t. I had good reason for leaving Project Nerf, and that’s the truth.”

“You and the truth, strutting around the Smash Mansion, kissing up to the Mario Bros,” Steve said contemptuously as he and Stevie cracked their knuckles. “We live in the presence of great truth. And that is the truth that you left behind—right there on that bulletin board!”

“I really don’t have time for your b.s.,” Chad said fearlessly. “There was a time when I considered you my friends, but now, you’re just toxic influences. You befriended me just because I didn’t care much for Luigi. Now that I’ve seen how I hurt him, you want nothing to do with me. And I want nothing to do with you.”

Steve turned red. “You take that back!” he yelled.

“Well, you’re the big man,” challenged Chad. “Make me.”

“Okay, you asked for it!”

The two Steves stepped toward Chad, who put up his fists. With a series of lightning fast martial arts moves, he subdued Steve first, and then he took down Stevie. The scuffle was over in minutes.

“Hey! What’s going on here?” Eden demanded as she and a few Mii security guards arrived on the scene.

“They attacked me,” Chad calmly explained. “I defended myself.”

“He started it!” Steve accused as he lay in a heap.

“No, you were ganging up on me, and I felt threatened,” Chad stated evenly.

“Whatever beef you have, I’m sure Master Hand can arrange for you to settle it on the battlefield,” Eden said sternly. “I’ll let this slide once, because I’m inclined to believe your story, Chad. But if I catch you engaging in another unsanctioned fight, it’s straight to MH’s office you go. Are we clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” replied Chad.

“Yes, ma’am,” the two Steves sullenly mumbled.

Slowly, Chad’s adrenaline cooled as his two antagonists got to their feet.

“So, what do you say?” Eden asked brightly. “Are you three friends again?”

Chad rolled his eyes and offered his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “I may be swift to action, but I’m prepared to forgive and forget, if you’ll have me. I’ve got better things to do with my time than nurse some silly old grudge. It’s just that you turned up here and accused me of committing a crime, which I surely didn’t. I don’t know about you, but I wanna move on with my life.”

The two Steves had no choice but to accept the handshake, as Eden and her companions were watching like a hawk. But their eyes warned Chad that this was far from over.

“Ready for your matches, Chad?” asked Eden.

“Yup,” said Chad. Pointedly, to the two Steves, he added, “You have yourselves a nice day, guys.”

With that, he walked out with his head held high.

**1.1.1**

Minutes later, Chad was seated in the second row of the stands, right behind Mario, a program in his lap. The man in red turned to greet him.

“Hey, Chad,” said Mario. His tone was affable enough, but the New Englander wasn’t going to push his luck.

“Hi, Mario,” Chad replied. “How’s it coming?”

Mario shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to process this.”

“Me, too,” Chad said softly.

Mario’s sea-blue eyes studied Chad. He was different altogether from the arrogant b—d who’d arrived at the start of this tournament. But he could never forget that he used to want this. He’d ranted in Master Hand’s office about this. And now he was friendly with Luigi? The red-clad plumber wasn’t sure if he could stomach that.

“So,” said Chad. “It’s Dark Pit?”

“Dark Pit,” said Mario.

“Boy,” said Chad. “A lot of people are blatantly rooting for him out there.”

Mario nodded.

“Wh—what’s wrong?” asked Chad.

“People are using this nerf as an excuse to attack Luigi,” explained Mario, “and I don’t like that.”

“Trust me, the euphoria will die down soon enough,” Chad assured him.

“And if it doesn’t?” challenged Mario.

Chad sighed. “I don’t know, M. I just don’t know.”

The stage lights snapped on, revealing the Kalos Pokémon League stage. First, Dark Pit gently descended onto the platform and struck a pose. He smirked as his fellow conspirators cheered. Then, he saw the three brothers sitting in the front row, opposite Mario, Peach and Chad.

“Get him, Pittoo!” whooped Vince.

Normally, Dark Pit wasn’t hot for that nickname, but he was willing to make several exceptions. He waved to the crowd and started to psych himself up for the fight.

Across from him, a Warp Pipe appeared, and Luigi hopped out, invigorated and ready to fight. He wore a mustard-colored shirt and hat with green overalls, a Timex watch on his right wrist. Cheers erupted from Mario and Chad’s side of the spectator area. From his seat, Chad studied Luigi, trying to unlock the secrets behind the focused facial expression. Blue eyes smoldered into Dark Pit, but the dark angel just stared smugly at him. He already had this fight in the bag.

Master Hand’s booming voice started the match. “3…2…1…GO!”

“C’mon!” said Pittoo, spinning his blades and trying to provoke Luigi. “I’m right here!”

But Luigi didn’t take the bait, instead hanging back and waiting for the dark angel to charge. He had a nasty habit of spamming his electroshock things, something Luigi vowed he’d exploit in the future. But right now, Dark Pit settled for dancing out of Luigi’s reach and talking smack about his nerf.

“Whatcha waiting for? Aren’t you gonna try and combo me?” Pittoo asked mockingly. On those words, he danced in, slashed, and then danced back out. “Whoops, you missed me!”

“It occurs—did he get any practicing done before this fight?” Chad asked in a low voice.

Mario rolled his eyes. “I doubt it. But Luigi was in there most of the morning after breakfast, training hard.”

“Well, that says a lot, doesn’t it? If Pittoo wasn’t practicing…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Mario cut him off.

Luigi’s practice showed in his approach to this fight. Whenever the dark angel attempted to spam _that_ move, the plumber simply dodged. He weaved in close, slamming precise blows into his opponent’s body. But when he tried to grab, Dark Pit would simply laugh and jump away. The dark angel was quickly turning this into a spectacle at Luigi’s expense. Sportsmanship was all but thrown out the window as Pittoo spewed taunts, mockery and insults at his foe regarding the combos which no longer existed. Chad shook his head in disgust. Mario’s face was stone. Peach’s posture remained regal and calm, but Chad could see everything in her eyes.

“Hey, Pittoo!” Chad barked down at the dark angel. “Less talking and more fighting, huh?”

Dark Pit glowered at Chad. He’d never forgive him for bailing as he had. Then, he focused that burst of anger on stopping Luigi’s approach, slashing and slicing his twin blades, keeping him camped out.

“Where are your combos now?” snickered Dark Pit.

Coldly, Luigi sent a Super Jump Punch into his opponent’s smirking mug. Dark Pit simply spat blood from his mouth and guffawed.

“A marshmallow can hit harder than that,” he taunted.

He danced and flitted here and there, Luigi doing the same thing.

“Yeah. You’re not so super now. Not without those combos.” Dark Pit just didn’t know when to STFU. “Yeah. Look at you. You’re not so bad. You’re not so tough. You fight like [bleep], man. C’mon, you scared now? You scared? You’d better be. Let’s see you combo out of _this_.”

“Oh, my God,” sighed Lauren, sitting on Mario’s other side.

“Hang in there, Luigi,” whispered Mario.

“Can’t MH hear this?” asked Chad.

“I don’t know. Hope so,” murmured Peach.

Pittoo shot off a few arrows and swiped with his blades, but mostly continued to shoot off his mouth about Luigi’s defunct combos and how he was nothing without them and so on and so forth. Pittoo’s fans couldn’t get enough of it, while the rest sat there, appalled by this display. Several times, Luigi managed to grab Pittoo, only for his muscle memory to keep throwing him off. The new combos hadn’t been hammered in quite yet, but they were close. But Luigi kept breathing, refusing to give up, trying to tune out the slew of insults.

“Oh, boy, is this great,” chortled Falco.

Vince had his hands crossed behind his head. “Indeed,” he said.

“Although,” Manny chimed in, “There’s a bit of work required on Dark Pit’s part. Luigi still has some moves he needs to watch out for.”

“Bah,” said Falco. “Let him have his fun.”

“But look at him, Falco. He’s barely doing anything—except grandstanding,” Shane put in. “I thought we did this to give people a better advantage in a fair fight.”

“Yeah, that and also to get at Luigi,” shrugged Falco.

“You all should be happy that those combos are defunct,” cautioned Manny, “but don’t let it distract you. Just a pointer for the future, is all.”

Meanwhile, Eden and Charlie sat next to Lauren, seething. Oh, how they wanted to wipe that look off of Dark Pit’s face!

“When is he gonna quit showing off and fight?” growled Charlie.

“Maybe after another Super Jump Punch,” huffed Lauren.

“I hope it’s not always gonna be like this,” groaned Eden.

“Oh, trust me,” said Mario. “It is.”

“Are you gonna talk to Master Hand, discuss your suspicions?” prompted Lauren.

“Yeah. Later today,” Mario said distractedly.

“Yeah! You’re nothing! You’re a _loser_!” Dark Pit was sneering, getting right into Luigi’s face.

Half of the audience gasped in horror. The words flickered across Luigi’s face. His jaw was clenched. His eyes were flint.

“Easy, Lil’ Bro,” cautioned Mario. “Easy.”

“Heh. I don’t know why I’m even bothering with you right now. You should just forfeit. It’ll save you a lot of pain.”

“Aw, man, STFU!” Charlie shouted down at him.

“Yeah! Stop strutting around and _fight_!” Lauren led the charge.

Dark Pit struck a few poses before twirling his twin blades again. “You’re not ready!” he crowed.

“No,” muttered Chad. “_You’re_ not ready.”

With each hurtful phrase leaving Pittoo’s mouth, Luigi fought with greater finesse and caution. Curiously, this was a sure sign that he was growing frustrated and upset, even angry. While others started raging out, Luigi kept it focused inward, because flying into a temper wouldn’t do anything, now would it? He hoped that ignoring this bluster would cause Dark Pit to get bored and put an end to it. It didn’t.

He _did_ manage to silence the angel temporarily with his Super Jump Punch and his back-throw, which resembled the usual way of getting rid of a certain pesky, princess-snatching reptile. His back throw was his strongest throw, after all, and it was his best way to take a stock when he was in a jam. Unfortunately, Dark Pit also liked flinging Luigi around, to the pleasure of his fans. Even worse, each time Luigi tried to pull of a new combo he’d been practicing, he’d go right into an old one instead. People hooted and jeered whenever he did this, and the dark angel wrested the advantage from him quite easily. Chad joined Mario, Peach, Lauren, Charlie, Eden and the rest of Luigi’s fans in cheering and encouraging, and Luigi rallied, but it was barely any use. Dark Pit won the match.

“Nice try,” Pittoo sniggered as he posed one last time.

Good-naturedly, Luigi applauded and offered a handshake. Dark Pit leaned in as if to accept, and then gave him the finger before skipping off.

“Well done, my man,” said Falco, high-fiving him. “Very well done.”

Pittoo grinned. “Thanks.”

Neither Mario Bro failed to notice this.

**1.1.1**

“You wanted to see me?” asked Master Hand.

“Yes, sir,” replied Mario, settling into a chair in the office.

It was mid-morning. The day’s matches were in full-swing, and like yesterday, the norm was to whale on Luigi as much as they could without getting into trouble. The plumber had winded them briefly with Smash attacks, but any notion of hope was always yanked from his reach at the last second. Mario and others had watched as the likes of Marth, Roy, Steve, Stevie and Rolf humiliated Luigi and tried to break him down. And now, the man in red was tired of it and decided to seek out the Hand of Creation for help.

“What’s on your mind, Mario?” asked MH.

“First of all, most of Luigi’s opponents this morning have been—abusive, as of late,” said Mario. “They’re throwing his nerf in his face and saying these things—have you noticed this?”

MH sighed heavily. “I’ve already had a private talk with them earlier. But I shall call a meeting later today regarding this matter. This is quite—strange. No one has ever reacted to an update patch in this manner before.”

“Which brings me to my second point,” said Mario. “Something about this patch seems—off.”

“Do explain,” said MH.

Mario took a deep breath. “Based on the display I’ve witnessed so far,” he began, “I have a feeling that the nerf on Luigi’s down throw was—deliberately planned.”

MH cocked himself to the side. “Why do you think that?”

“First of all, the update patch announcement came out of the blue,” explained Mario. “Second of all, Luigi’s combos were the only mechanic everyone was upset about. And when Mr. Sakurai came over to deliver the patch notes, I sensed—something—about him. I really think you were manipulated regarding this, Master Hand. It can’t be a coincidence that Sakurai contacted you just weeks after people started screaming at you about my baby bro. The other stuff just feels—hastily tacked on.”

“I see,” MH mused after a beat. “However, I want you to know that update patches aren’t used to hurt people. They intend to help them.”

“This one just feels different,” said Mario.

“Yes, I understand that, but you don’t have any evidence supporting this claim,” MH told him.

“No, I just have a hunch,” sighed Mario.

“I cannot go by hunches alone, but regardless, I’m willing to launch an investigation into this matter,” said MH. “Harassment of any kind won’t be condoned in this tournament, and if I find that one or several of my Smashers sought to subvert this tournament, then they will be disciplined accordingly.”

Mario smiled. “Thank you, Master Hand.”

“In the meantime, I would advise you not to think about it too much,” MH told him. “Luigi needs you at this moment more than ever, as he’s trying to navigate this new environment. Talking about conspiracies isn’t going to offer him emotional support, is it?”

“No—I guess not.”

“But I assure you, if something comes up, I’ll be sure to let everyone know.”

Mario rose from his seat and shook MH’s pointer finger. “I’d prefer it if you kept this between you and me,” he said. “I’ll see you around, Master Hand.”

On those words, he briskly exited the office.

MH turned to CH, who had watched the exchange with great interest. “Do you know anything about this?” he asked.

“No, dear brother,” CH calmly responded. “Nothing at all.”

MH pressed a button on his intercom. “Send them in,” he said.

Not long passed before four well-muscled Mii Fighters walked into the office. Their names were Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory.

“Master Hand,” the quartet said in unison.

“Hello, boys,” greeted MH. “I have an assignment for you.”

He gave each Mii a copy of a photo. “I want you all to keep a close eye on this Smasher,” he said. “He’s a very loose cannon. And we can’t afford to let him go off.”

**1.1.1**

Vince, Manny and Shane sat in Koopa’s room, skimming over some documents, pen in hand. Occasionally, they took sips from the drinks Koopa mixed for them. As for the turtle himself, he sat across from the three brothers, eating his lunch.

“You guys are well-trained in this, aren’t you?” asked Koopa.

“Yup,” said Shane. “We were always taught to read a document before signing it, even if the person drawing it up is a good friend.”

“Good men, all of you,” said Koopa. “Wait—you consider me a friend?”

“Sure, we do,” said Vince. “We spent the past month helping each other.”

Koopa sighed heavily. “I don’t have a lot of friends,” he said. “Two of them are on vacation right now, but they’ll be back soon. Aside from my generals and my minions, I barely have anyone. And maybe that’s why I’m the way I am.”

“Hey,” said Manny. “You have us.”

Koopa blushed. “Gee—thanks, guys,” he said sincerely.

Shane was the first to sign his documents, followed by Vince and finally Manny.

“Are you aware that I require a property tax paid once a year?” asked Koopa.

“Yes, sir.”

“And that you’re also required to pay for the electricity, gas, and other utilities?”

“Yes.”

“Great,” said Koopa. “I see that you watched the virtual tour of your properties earlier this morning.”

“We did.”

“Perfect. Tonight, I’ll show you around in person. Trust me, you’re gonna love your new castles.”

“We’ll take your word for it,” said Vince. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Likewise,” said Koopa, shaking hands with the brothers.

“And our advice for when you fight Luigi,” said Manny. “Keep your head in the game. His down throw may be nerfed, but he still has a lot of powerful attacks in his arsenal.”

Koopa blinked. “I’ll keep that in mind. In exchange for your advice, I must warn you of something—or should I say, someone.”

“Mario,” said Vince.

“I overheard him in Master Hand’s office, asking questions.”

“Any proof of our association was incinerated,” Shane reminded him.

“Yeah, but—I have a bad feeling about him,” shuddered Koopa. “You three need to be careful.”

“Never fear, Koopa,” said Manny. “We’ll make sure to cover our tracks.”

“See you tonight,” said Koopa as he let the trio out.

“See ya!” the brothers sang out.

Once they left, Koopa shut the door after them and finished his lunch. He could hardly wait for his match against Luigi. This nerf surely made life as a villain easier, and he knew just how he was going to celebrate…

**1.1.1**

The afternoon was just as bad as the morning, perhaps worse. Close to half of the spectators screamed terrible, hateful things at Luigi whenever he was on the battlefield. Rolf and Mewtwo battered him mercilessly during their free-for-all, as did Kyle. Some of the afternoon’s opponents were more respectful of the plumber, but it was cold comfort at best. Still, Luigi wouldn’t break. All he needed was more practice. It was a hard trek back up, but it would be done.

Later, Luigi floated on his back on the surface of the indoor pool, staring at the ceiling. The water was cool, lapping against his back, his body bobbing like a buoy. He lay there, spread-eagled, the floating sensation calming his nerves. He needed all the Zen he could get before his next fight.

Taking in a deep breath, he allowed his body to drop beneath the surface, the sounds around him growing subdued. He moved gently forward through this silent world, the silence broken only by occasional sloshing and gurgling from the pool’s filtration system. Gracefully, he slid against the pool’s smooth bottom. It appeared light blue, broken up by those black tiles. He glanced up and saw the pool’s surface, glassy and wrinkly, letting in the lights from the ceiling and projecting it in the form of patterns against the walls. Additional lights, pool lights, bathed the bottom like sunlight. Luigi trailed a few fingers against the bottom and he continued to propel himself quietly through this oasis. A steady stream of bubbles issued from his nostrils, tickling his face as they floated upwards. The coolness enveloped him in a comforting embrace, further eradicating the stress. It lifted his hair, waving it about, and caressed the back of his neck. No words could describe how good it felt.

His eyes started to sting, and his lungs started to ache. Pushing himself off the pool’s bottom, Luigi slowly and deliberately floated back up to the surface. Surfacing too quickly could be harmful, after all.

He emerged with barely a splash, heralding his return to the real world with a big gasp, readjusting his eyes to the halo of light around him. After blinking the water out of his eyes, he kicked over to the ladder and hoisted himself out of the pool, his steps a little shaky. His towel and clothes waited on one of the deck chairs. He tipped his head to the side to get the excess water out of his ears. Then, he grabbed the towel, dried himself off, stripped off his briefs and wrapped the towel around his waist before taking his clothes and going over to the pool’s changing room to put them on.

A few moments later, Luigi re-emerged, now attired in an orange and navy ensemble, an orange hat on his head. He felt strangely—new. As if his former self had been shed in that pool. Smiling, the plumber strode determinedly out of the room. He hoped to clock in some time in the Training Area before his next bout.

**1.1.1**

“Is that him?” asked Rory, pointing to the figure who’d just leaped from a Warp Pipe.

“Nope, that’s his brother,” said Remy, rolling his eyes. He pointed to the man three rows down from them, in the middle seat. “_That’s_ him.”

“Oh. Of course.” Rory blushed a little at his error. “Funny that MH wants us to keep tabs on him.”

“Remember what he said—he’s a loose cannon. His brother’s just been nerfed, and people are making his life Hell for it—he has good cause to be one.” Remy popped a French fry into his mouth. “You have a brother, don’t you?”

“A sister, actually,” Rory said smartly. “Her name’s Amy. She writes me every Saturday. Heaven help anyone who gives her grief.”

“So, you understand,” said Remy.

“Of course, I do. MH is worried about how Mario will express his protectiveness. He just doesn’t want the guy to break the rules, all right?”

“Mario, break the rules?” Remy chuckled. “He’s our poster child. He’s the perfect hero. Everyone wants to emulate him in some way. That portly plumber is the nicest fellow you’ll ever meet.”

Rory nodded. “He’s a nice guy, all right. Which makes him especially unpredictable. He also takes the role of the elder brother very seriously. If something happens to Luigi, then Mario will beat himself up over it because he wasn’t there to protect him. And trust me, he _will_ find the party—or parties—responsible.”

“Well—you can’t protect your siblings from everything,” Remy mused, “but you can at least try.”

On the stage, Koopa dramatically entered amidst a wall of flames. Remy and Rory groaned.

“I wouldn’t mind turning my back while M gives that turtle a pounding,” grumbled Rory.

“You and me both, pal,” said Remy. “You and me both.”

The match started.

Seated not far from Remy and Rory were Jimmy and Timmy.

“Okay—what are we supposed to do again?” asked Timmy.

Jimmy pointed to Mario. “All we have to do is shadow our man,” he said. “Then, we report his activities to MH. And we swing into action if we suspect him about to fly off the handle.”

“Yeah—I know that part,” huffed Timmy. “I just want to know—what’s the point in doing it like this? Treating Nintendo’s mascot like some bad guy?”

“Ah, Tim-Tim—we’re just looking out for him,” said Jimmy, clapping Timmy on the shoulder. “In our own way, of course. MH just doesn’t want him to do something stupid.”

“Like—what? That’s what I’m confused about,” clarified Timmy. “Like—pick fights with the people antagonizing Luigi?”

“And do something he’ll regret,” said Jimmy. “I’m telling you, if he makes a rash decision, then it’ll stay with him forever.”

“How do you know he’s going to make a rash decision?” asked Timmy.

Jimmy grinned. “I don’t!”

A beat. Then, the two laughed.

“Trust me, Timbo,” said Jimmy. “MH know what he’s doing.”

“A waste of time, so far,” scoffed Timmy. “He’s just sitting there, innocently.”

“Careful,” warned Jimmy. “It’s only a matter of time. I can feel it.”

“What are you, the Big Brother Whisperer?” snickered Timmy.

“It’s just—Tim, I love you like a brother. And if anyone harmed you, I’d be on the warpath.”

“Aw, thanks, Jim,” said Timmy. “I feel the same toward you.”

“So, I guess I can relate to Mario and how he operates.”

“We all can relate to him,” Timmy said softly. “Maybe that’s why he’s so appealing.”

“That being said, you can’t let your guard down,” cautioned Jimmy. “Stay vigilant and stay alert. Look for warning signs in his behavior. Because MH is bound to blame us if Mario does something.”

Timmy shuddered a little. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

**1.1.1**

Sitting there, beside Peach, Lauren, Charlie and Eden, Mario knew he was being watched. For what reason, he didn’t know, but he knew it wasn’t for a good reason. Peach’s gloved hand was enfolded in his as he watched the match. The Mushroom Princess exchanged uneasy looks with Lauren as she observed her love’s eerily calm disposition.

“I meant to ask—how did your chat with MH go?” asked Peach.

“He said he’d investigate,” said Mario. “I don’t think he believes me.”

“Yet,” clarified Peach.

“Yeah,” chirped Lauren. “He needs to get proof first.”

“This isn’t proof enough?”

“It’s proof that people are enjoying it a tad too much,” offered Eden. “Not proof that the nerf was deliberately planned.”

“Whoever wanted to plan something like this had to be smart and destroy all the evidence,” said Charlie.

Sitting a row behind them, Chad’s heart skipped a beat. _Should I tell them?_

Mario said nothing. His eyes were intense, mouth a hard line. _Something_ brewing in his eyes. What was it? It was pain, frustration and hate, all riddled into one. Peach wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his pulse beating against the crown of her head.

“Whatever you’re thinking of doing,” she entreated. “Don’t.”

The match continued to rage, in Koopa’s favor. Luigi was, as always, doing what he could, but he couldn’t stop messing up. There were people ceaselessly hooting with laughter, yelling at the plumber and holding up demeaning signs. Ushers would ask them to put these signs away, which they did—only to put them back up when their backs were turned. By now, Luigi’s face was as flushed as his bro’s, and he was sweaty and covered in slashes. But his determination remained unmovable.

“You stupid plumber,” chuckled someone behind Mario.

“Serves him right,” added another. “Let’s see him strut around the Smash Mansion now.”

Mario managed not to make eye contact.

On the other side of the battlefield, even Vince was starting to get impressed by Luigi’s gutsy tenacity. “He’s not gonna give up,” he said.

His brothers shook their heads, just as awestruck.

“And now,” Vince went on, “I really don’t want him to.”

**1.1.1**

After the matchup between Koopa and Luigi, Master Hand summoned everyone to the auditorium. The Smashers arrived in due time and sat, cross-legged, in neat rows on the floor. Sporting a stern expression, MH floated before them.

“Good afternoon, Smashers,” he said.

“Afternoon,” everyone echoed.

“The reason I summoned you is because of something one of you told me earlier this morning,” said MH, giving a meaningful glance to Mario. “According to this Smasher, some of you have been using this tournament as an excuse to antagonize Luigi because his down throw was nerfed.”

Dead silence.

“I’ve also observed some behavior supporting that accusation,” MH went on. “Audience members were yelling horrible things at Luigi. Most of his opponents, and you know who you are, were fighting dirty. It’s unacceptable! I didn’t release this update patch to give you a punching bag! I released it to address your concerns to the best of my ability. You never acted this way over previous update patches, and there’s no excuse for this one. I intend to maintain a spirit of friendly competition in this tournament, and I will no longer tolerate the egregious acts I witnessed earlier today. If this reprehensible behavior continues, then I’ll have no choice but to invoke the tournament’s zero tolerance policy and take further action. Am I clear on that?”

“Yes, Master Hand,” said the others.

“This Smasher also tells me that this update patch may have been the result of covert manipulation,” said MH. “While I agree that there was a lot of internal pressure behind this patch, there is no evidence that this is true. But mark my words, I do not like being manipulated, especially for malicious means. As of now, I am launching an investigation into this matter. And trust me, I _can_ and _will_ find proof that this patch was deliberate. If anyone knows anything about these accusations, then I strongly suggest you speak up now. Because you know who you are, and you know what you did. I’ll find out sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner.”

Steve and Stevie gave Chad a look _begging_ him to speak up. Chad glanced around and saw the same looks from other conspirators. Quickly, Chad closed his mouth.

“Good boy,” cooed Stevie.

“What was that, Stevie?” asked MH.

“Nothing, Master Hand,” Stevie said quickly.

“The timeline leading up to this patch is too strange of a coincidence, I admit,” said MH. “Only three weeks after the complaining started, Sakurai contacted me over altering the mechanics of this tournament. A very timely response, perhaps. But when I started discussing Luigi’s opinions, Sakurai got a little—hot. I understand that L is lobbying him to get someone he loves into this tournament, but I hope he’s not taking it personally. I couldn’t help but feel a slight—twinge—during my meetings with Sakurai, that something sinister was behind all of this. Initially, I dismissed it as ridiculous superstition, but based on the antics I’ve witnessed over the past two days and this Smasher’s visit to my office, I’m now inclined to suspect foul play.”

“Master Hand—who would do something like that?” queried Rosalina.

“That’s something I have to find out,” said MH.

“A lot of people hated on Luigi because of his down-throw combos,” said Captain Falcon. “How are you going to narrow down the list of suspects?”

Murmuring filled the room.

“Settle down,” said MH. “In the court of law, a person is innocent until proven guilty, and that’s no different here. But if there’s reason to believe that this update patch was the result of some elaborate scheme, it’s my duty to find out who’s responsible and why.”

“You have motive,” Samus piped up. “Right, Master Hand?”

“There’s motive, but no faces and no hard proof,” said MH.

“Doing something like this just to get at Luigi is just—unthinkable,” gasped Ness.

“I can’t agree with you more,” MH told him. “I’ve never heard such an accusation in my lifetime. My investigation intends to reach as high as Sakurai himself. I think that he was either in on this from the get-go, or he at least knew something. Smashers hatching a plot to subvert my brainchild instead of buckling down and practicing? Well, I won’t have it! I condemn these acts of saltiness, just as I condemn the display I’ve witnessed since this patch went into effect. If what this Smasher tells me turns out to be true, then it will constitute an act of cheating, which will not stand. And if you notice something suspicious, don’t be afraid to report it to me. If you were involved in this plot, then confess now, and so atone.”

More silence.

“Very well, then,” said MH, “but let me tell you, the sooner you come forward, the better. You are dismissed, Smashers.”

As the Smashers got up and left the auditorium, Crazy Hand hovered behind a curtain, starting to get a little nervous. If Chad confessed, then the Hand of Destruction would lose power over him. This power was essential to the advancement of his latest scheme. He had to take steps to make sure nobody started getting second thoughts about this venture. Chuckling evilly, Crazy Hand slipped away unseen.

**1.1.1**

It was, finally, the moment Chad dreaded. He had to take two tension dumps before he was ready to step out onto Lylat Cruise. The stage background was dark, illuminated only by starlight and the glowsticks worn by the audience, but it was enough to see. Gamely, Chad waved to the crowds, who cheered in response. His breath hitched when he saw those three brothers in the audience. Best to ignore them. He needed to concentrate on getting through this fight.

He glanced at Mario. The portly plumber’s expression was—unreadable. He surveyed the scene with gleaming blue eyes, priming himself for the excitement ahead. Chad couldn’t tell who he was rooting for. Peach was rubbing his back, Lauren uneasily observing the two. Eden looked lost in thought and—there was Charlie! The blonde flashed him a smile which soothed Chad’s stomach. She’d swapped her turquoise top for a lighter, short-sleeved turquoise shirt, and a small flashlight rested in her lap. Soon, he’d tell her everything. She’d be angry, sure, but he needed to get this off his chest, and pronto. Maybe after some cooling off, she’d be able to forgive him.

Chad just didn’t know if the same could be said for the Mario Bros.

Turning back around, Chad saw Luigi standing there, facing him. His expression was as unreadable as his brother’s, partially obscured by the stage’s mood lighting. Chad began to take slow, deep breaths and he and Luigi stepped toward center stage.

The plumber wore a purple shirt and hat with darker purple overalls, hair neatly combed back. That unreadable look was still on his face as he sized Chad up, remembering the way he’d pounded him into brief unconsciousness and his rant at Master Hand after that fight. He thought about the way Chad used to be and the entitled, snobby way he used to act. But more than anything, he remembered how this man used to be pro-nerf. Was he genuinely remorseful, or did he change his tune for selfish purposes? His eyes searched Chad’s as they stood there, in the middle of the battlefield, waiting for the match to start.

Studying Luigi, Chad’s mind was bursting with questions. Had Luigi truly let him into his circle? Will he ever consider him a friend? Could Chad really atone for his sins? Should he tell Luigi what he knew about Project Nerf? How would he react if he confessed? How would Mario react? And Charlie? He’d just met her, but—her empathy and gorgeous looks were starting to draw him in. He had to choose between confessing and inviting their wrath and spending the rest of his days as Crazy Hand’s—girlfriend. The former looked only slightly better in comparison.

He closed his eyes, clearing his mind, and slid on a pair of red and gold padded, fingerless gloves. The rest of his attire consisted of navy leggings, a red tank top and blue, slip-on sneakers. Meeting Luigi’s gaze once more, he flashed him an easy smile.

Slowly, Luigi returned the smile, and both men raised their fists.

“3—2—1—GO!”

The fighters circled one another like boxers as the audience watched in anticipation. Along with his attitude, Chad’s fighting style had improved. He started relying less on his weight and strength and more on swiftness, preferring open-palm strikes to punches. When an opponent’s percentage was at least 50, that was when Chad would start throwing punches. But he also liked doing kicks and elbow strikes when in close-ranged combat.

Chad was the first to close in, aiming a kick at Luigi. But Luigi leapt aside and sent Chad off his feet with a low attack. Swiftly, Chad rolled to his feet and avoided the fireballs shot in his direction before closing in again with several strikes to the body. Luigi swung a hefty punch into Chad’s abdomen, ending the barrage. The New Englander staggered, but didn’t fall. He regained his senses in time to dodge a f-air to the face, throwing a spin kick which knocked Luigi away. When the man in purple got to his feet, Chad retreated a few paces. Luigi’s face was flint, eyes flashing dangerously. He waited, nostrils flaring, for Chad’s next move.

He didn’t have to wait long. Chad dashed back in with sharp, light body blows and elbow strikes. Luigi smoothly ducked and dodged, striking back whenever he saw an opening. Now, the two fighters were up close, attacking relentlessly. Mario and his companions drank in every detail. This was definitely a long time coming for Chad. Gradually, Luigi gained the upper hand. Chad’s flurry of open-palm strikes and kicks could barely hold a candle to the plumber’s Smash attacks, aerials and special moves. He used their power to make up for his nerf. Then, he stopped thinking about the nerf, because he couldn’t afford to lose focus.

A month ago, Chad would’ve started to get frustrated, but not this time. He remained patient, fighting defensively, blocking as many blows as he could. That Super Jump Punch was by far Luigi’s deadliest move, but also the hardest move to pull off. Maybe he could bait Luigi into throwing the punch too early or too late. Then, he could capitalize on Luigi’s vulnerability to rack up damage before trying for a K.O. It was worth a try. Chad jumped clear of a grab attempt and performed a back Suplex, briefly slowing Luigi down.

Luigi studied Chad, both of them breathing hard and bringing their best strategies to the table. The latter was swift and coordinated, but his reluctance to throw punches could also be a weakness. Chad was fast, but Luigi could be faster and hit harder. It only took one well-placed punch to turn the tide around. Then, he’d batter Chad with f-airs, tilts and his down-B. Chad also found himself rammed by that side-B, but he also recalled Luigi’s tendency to overshoot targets. He had to keep that in mind, too.

Chad dropped down and kicked his legs out and around, first knocking Luigi off-balance before dealing additional kicks to the body. Luigi hit the ground with a grunt of pain and surprise, and Chad cartwheeled over him, hitting him with an elbow strike as he did. He finished the attack with a flashy kick to the face, and then landed in a combat stance.

“Whoa!” gasped Vince. “Did you see that?”

“Why didn’t he do that earlier?” Shane wanted to know. “Maybe he would’ve beat Luigi if he still had—had…”

“Yeah,” said Vince. “I think so, too.”

Manny was silent, but he also agreed with his brothers. They weren’t willing to acknowledge it, but the afterglow of their accomplishment was starting to fade away. But why? Didn’t they want this?

Now, Luigi was back on his feet, staring Chad down. The unreadable expression was back on his face. Yet Chad saw the question all the same.

_You WANTED this, didn’t you?_

Chad shook away the twinge of guilt as he shielded fireballs and advanced, closing in with a no-look kick to the abdomen. Luigi kicked back as he got up, spearing his hand into Chad’s jaw. He went flying, but he twisted his body and teched his landing. They circled each other again, and then simultaneously leaped back in, exchanging fierce blows. Finally, Chad made his move, leaping in, and darting back out as Luigi threw his trademark uppercut, causing him to miss and leaving him wide open. Chad wasted no time, grabbing Luigi and delivering a forward Suplex, switching from palm and elbow strikes to punches, kicks and knee strikes. With a mighty heel kick, Chad sent Luigi offstage, smashing him with another no-look kick as he tried to recover.

One stock lost, one stock left.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Chad waited to feel something, triumph, maybe. Instead, he felt guilt, guilt which increased as Luigi respawned, his face unsmiling, his fists clenched.

_You WANTED this, didn’t you?_

_Not like this_, Chad wanted to say, but the heat of battle and the adrenaline between them took over. Before long, the New Englander had engaged Luigi, solid blows flying between the two and hitting their mark. Cheers floated around them, cheers for both fighters. Chad could feel his opponent’s hurt and distress with every punch, saw the questions and accusations in his eyes. Saw the memory of himself, spoiled and entitled and throwing hissy fits. Saw the image of Luigi slumping in his grasp the last time they fought, him noticing but not caring as he continued to grip him by his shirt collar, driving blow after blow into him. Cold anger now colored Luigi’s face, his fists and feet landing blows with icy precision, targeting areas bound to hurt the most. Chad gave as good as he got, but he was unsettled by Luigi’s eyes. Nothing could truly be forgiven so quickly, especially his past actions. Maybe after this bout, after they had the opportunity to fight it out, Chad would help Luigi understand. Maybe he’d confess his complicity in Project Nerf—or be one step closer to confessing.

In the stands, Mario stared hard at the action. Chad said that he’d changed, but Mario wanted nothing more than for Chad to get his just desserts on the battlefield, and boy, was he getting them. He could hardly wait for his own turn against Chad, just as he couldn’t wait to face off against those who’d attacked Luigi’s combo skills and contributed to his nerf. The sight of Luigi, crumpled on his bedroom floor, was still fresh in his memory, and it had awakened his inner rage. He told himself to trust Master Hand with his investigation, but would it be enough?

After doubling Chad over, Luigi grabbed him, swung him around three times and then hurled him off the stage and out of bounds. The plumber flashed his fans a peace sign, feeling a little better. Now, the two were tied at one stock each. Who would win this battle?

For a moment, they stood there, fists raised. Then, Chad danced in and out, feinting. Luigi still wouldn’t take the bait, having learned from his first stock loss. _Two can play at that game_, he thought, dancing in range of Chad’s strongest attack before sliding back out, causing him to lose his balance. Before he could react, Luigi’s uppercut smashed into him. It didn’t K.O., but it racked on plenty of hurt.

Chad pulled himself together and wiped the blood from his mouth and nose before intercepting Luigi’s next attack, grabbing him, pummeling him with knee strikes and then body-slamming him onto the stage. Luigi bounced back up, allowing Chad to follow up with flashy spinning kicks and punches before finishing with a soaring axe kick. Everyone applauded in awe. This was a new and interesting side of Chad.

Luigi rolled to his knees and stood, swiping blood from his own face, playing defensively. Chad dashed back in for a Smash attack, but this time, Luigi was ready, slamming two punches into his foe’s body and kicking him away. Chad somersaulted back up and aimed more flurries of quick strikes at Luigi, but the latter dodged or blocked most of them, answering back with even more bruising strikes. The spectators had gone silent as the fighters danced about Lylat Cruise, exchanging punishing blows, so full of emotion that the pain hardly registered. They were so quiet that they could hear the deep grunts and breathing of the two combatants.

Indeed, the nerf hadn’t made Luigi any less breathtaking to watch. He was still graceful and fluid, body bouncing and twisting and weaving against the starry backdrop. His blows settled into a repetitive rhythm, almost in time with his breaths. Face set in granite firmness, eyes twinkling and flashing, curls of hair getting stuck to his forehead as a film of sweat materialized on his skin. Charlie rested her chin on her hands as her eyes flitted from the well-built, sweat-washed Chad to the choreographed, steely determined, sweat-washed Luigi. She found herself rooting for both of them.

Watching Luigi temporarily stilled the storm in Mario’s soul. Throughout this fight, Luigi hadn’t tried his down throw on Chad, and yet he was still keeping up! Maybe it was a good idea to put that down throw aside for a bit and try something else. His forward and back throws were pretty strong and gave breathing room in the face of Chad’s melee attacks. And his special moves made him a force to reckon with long before any of the Smashers got a down throw. At least Luigi wasn’t being curb-stomped. Mario quietly watched on, feeling reassured.

Even the three brothers who didn’t care very much for Luigi found themselves entranced by him. It occurred to them that they’d never really seen him fight before. They only came here to see his combos fail him for the first time ever. But now, they were stepping back and actually observing him in close hand-to-hand with Chad. No matter how hard Chad hit him, Luigi got right back up. Even when Chad switched tactics and started relying on punches, Luigi wouldn’t be kept down for long. So many pent-up emotions were converted into well-needed energy. It was almost as if there was a combination of fire and electricity in his limber body. Vince, Manny and Shane found themselves wondering if watching Luigi in action would’ve given them more of a thrill before the nerf.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” breathed Vince, “but he’s—amazing.”

“Yeah,” said Manny. “Maybe that nerf was for the best.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” echoed Shane, unconvincingly.

They continued to watch as Luigi crouched down, charged himself up, and blasted off with a Misfire! Chad was picking himself up when the Green Missile encountered the center of his body. The wind left him in a rush, his legs turned to jelly, and his feet left the ground. Lylat Cruise shrunk before his eyes, and he saw a bright flash as he hit the blast line. But seconds before, Chad had caught the satisfied smile on Mario’s lips.

“GAME!”

Luigi had won his last match of the day.

**1.1.1**

After Luigi’s victory was announced, he went over to Chad, and they shook hands.

“Hey—could you walk with me for a second?” the plumber asked quietly.

Chad nodded. “Sure.”

Arm in arm, the two Smashers ventured down the corridor.

“You know, that actually felt pretty great,” Chad said finally.

“For you?” asked Luigi.

“For both of us,” explained Chad.

“And why do you think that?”

“Well, I…”

Abruptly, Luigi pulled Chad into a small room and closed the door.

“This is what I want to talk to you about,” Luigi said softly.

“I—don’t follow,” said Chad.

“Yes, you do,” said Luigi. “During our fight, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“If you’re talking about—Luigi,” sighed Chad. “I’m a changed man.”

“Yes, but you wanted this. You were among those lobbying Master Hand for this. Well, now you’ve got what you wanted.”

Chad hung his head. “Yes, I used to want it,” he confessed, “but after that Team Battle, and I saw that hurt look on your face, it gave me all sorts of doubts about what I was doing. I had to reevaluate myself and my priorities.”

“You’ve done a good job,” murmured Luigi.

“L, it was in your eyes during the fight. I knew that you were thinking about how I used to be around you, and I want you to know that those days are behind me.”

“That may be true, Chad, but do you really think that turning over a new leaf automatically erases your past actions?” challenged Luigi. “Because it doesn’t. Especially not for me.”

Chad sighed, knowing what Luigi was talking about.

“You saw how your actions were hurting me, and you apologized. But I just can’t stop thinking about what you did. You’ve got to understand that, Chad.” Luigi sniffled and wiped at his eyes. “I keep hearing your diatribe at Master Hand, and I keep seeing you beating me unconscious. Did you even know I’d lost consciousness? Did you even care?”

“I…” Chad dropped his eyes. “No. Luigi, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

“Chad, think of me as a church. I welcome converts, but I don’t make them Pope the same day. And I don’t know if I can trust you. How do I know that you won’t fall back into your old habits? I don’t even know your motives for turning around.”

Chad didn’t have an answer for that. Luigi made an excellent point.

“Are you really sorry for the way you acted? Or are you just trying to better your image to accomplish your own ends?”

“Accomplish my own ends? Luigi, I really do feel bad about what I’ve done. Please, just give me a chance to make it up to you.”

Luigi stared into space. “Yesterday and today, I didn’t catch a break,” he said. “It was open season for me. Hours after the patch was live, everyone knew that my down throw had been nerfed. Most of my opponents used that fact to torment me. I was mocked by Smashers and audiences alike. I ignored them and endured it all. And I just kept thinking about you and how you used to be on their side.” His eyes moved to Chad. “Is this what they wanted? Is this what _you_ wanted? My combos done away with so you all could have fun at my expense?”

“I—I don’t know,” spluttered Chad. “I don’t know why I was with them. I don’t know why you and your combos were such a big deal…”

“I seem to recall people saying that I ‘didn’t deserve them’,” said Luigi. His voice was starting to jerk, tears trickling down his cheeks. “When I defeated them, they said it was _my_ fault they couldn’t win. They couldn’t stop going on and on about how much they hated my combos and that I was overpowered—that I—I needed to ‘stay in my place’ as Player Two or _whatever_.” He spoke through heavy sobs, his body heaving, his voice choked. Teary eyes blazed balefully at Chad. “And _you_ were going off about how you came from a prestigious family and spent most of your life training in all styles of combat, and so you should’ve won and not me, a ‘shadow’. How can I reconcile that with the fact that you’re now on my side? How can I look at you and not see the sore loser you once were? Please, just tell me how?”

_“You all should be ashamed of yourselves, inviting someone like _him_ here…Those god—m combos should be illegal…Super Smash Brothers is just a gathering of incompetent, pitiful cartoons…”_

“Please, you’ve got to let me in,” entreated Chad, also tearing up. “You’ve got to tell me how I can make this right.”

“Just promise me you won’t act like that again,” sobbed Luigi. “Promise me you’ll do something besides making petty gestures. Promise me you won’t get upset when you lose to somebody. Promise me…”

“I promise,” Chad said solemnly.

And then Luigi was in Chad’s arms, sobbing into his shirt, the New Englander’s chin resting on the top of his head. Chad was conflicted. Now was the perfect time to confess what he knew about Project Nerf. Luigi was getting everything off his chest, baring everything to Chad, demonstrating a willingness to start over fresh. If he told the plumber about an actual scheme to get his down throw nerfed, would it undo the process or accelerate it? He thought about what Luigi said, his reluctance to trust him. Keeping this from him would serve to enforce that reluctance. Chad needed to make a decision, and fast.

“L,” said Chad. “I need to tell you something.”

Luigi raised his head. “What?”

Chad took a breath. “I wasn’t the only person who wanted you nerfed.”

“I know.”

“What if I were to tell you that there were calls for a nerf against you for a very long time?”

“Gee, I’m not surprised.”

“And what if I were to tell you that there were people who hated you and your down throw so much that they hatched a plot to get you nerfed?”

He felt Luigi tense in his arms. “A plot? Who would want to…?”

There was a crash outside.

“I—I have to go,” said Chad. “I’ll explain everything later.”

Abruptly, he got up and headed for the door.

“Chad, wait!” cried Luigi.

But he was gone.

Out in the hall, Chad was investigating the noise when his phone buzzed. He groaned when he saw the caller ID.

“Yes?” he asked.

“My office. Now,” said Crazy Hand. Then, he hung up.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, Chad turned and headed for CH’s office.

“Chad!” shouted a voice behind him.

He whirled. Luigi ran up to him, questions in his eyes. “What in the Inferno is going on?”

Chad’s heart pounded. He wanted to tell him everything, but he had the feeling that doing so would put him and everyone he loved in danger. “I—I can’t explain right now,” he said sadly. “I’m sorry. Good fight.” Briskly, he walked away, leaving the plumber standing there with the knowledge that Chad was keeping something from him.

**1.1.1**

By the time he reached CH’s office, Chad’s stomach was churning. He had to force himself to knock on the door and put on a cheerful façade as the booming voice within asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s Chad.”

“C’mon inside.”

Reluctantly, Chad obliged.

CH sat at his desk, watching funny meme videos on YouTube. “Please, sit,” he said.

Chad plunked himself down on the chair opposite CH.

“How’d your fight go?” asked CH.

“Better than I expected,” Chad said earnestly. “I lost, but not by much.”

“You’re taking it rather well,” opined CH.

“I learned my lesson, Crazy Hand.”

“Really? You’re not even a little bummed out that he won, considering…?”

“No, CH. No. I’m fine. I’ll do better next time,” Chad broke in. “Did you call me in here to talk about the match, or are there far more pressing matters to attend to?”

“Are you giving me an attitude, Chad?” CH asked calmly.

“No—I’m just wondering what’s on your mind,” Chad said quickly.

“Good, because you’re already in enough trouble as it is.” The mood was turning ominous. “Not only did you beat up my two friends Steve and Stevie this morning, you also came close to whispering an—intimate detail—into Luigi’s ear.”

“Okay, first of all, they accosted and attacked me,” said Chad, “and second of all, Luigi and I were just talking things out.”

“‘Talking things out’? Don’t you forget that I have eyes everywhere, Chad? I know exactly what you were ‘talking things out’ over. And I seem to recall that there was a point in making sure Luigi or anyone close to him didn’t find out about any of this.”

“Well, doesn’t he deserve to know, considering what he’s been put through lately?” asked Chad.

“As I recall, we made an agreement just the other day, which stipulates that you have no more second thoughts,” CH said smartly.

“Agreement? Hardly?” spat Chad. “You’re using me as your puppet, and I won’t allow it!”

CH giggled. “Oh, this is rich! You actually think I don’t know what you’re doing!” He giggled some more. “It’s seen as clear as day on movies and TV shows. Well, this isn’t a movie or a TV show. And you’re not getting off that easy, _Chad_. I _own_ you now.”

“Over my dead body,” Chad bravely shot back.

“I have an investment to protect,” said CH. “And if Luigi gains wind of Project Nerf, then that investment will be destroyed. So—if I so much as sense you trying to get out from under my thumb…” He laughed. “They won’t even find what’s left of you.”

“Well, thanks for the update,” said Chad. “Can I go now?”

“Nothing’s keeping you from doing so,” CH said coyly.

“You think you’ve got everything under control?” sneered Chad as he headed for the exit. “You couldn’t be more wrong. Everything’s gonna fall apart, and there won’t be a d—n thing you can do about it.”

And then he was gone, slamming the door behind him.

**1.1.1**

Later that night, Vince, Manny and Shane sat aboard Koopa’s airship, en route to their new castles. The horned turtle steered his craft low across the heavens, the engine and propellers barely making a sound. His passengers were clad in sweaters and jackets to keep warm in such a high altitude. Below them, most of the houses were dark, the souls within sleeping soundly. Few cars glided across the streets, and only the drive-thrus of fast-food restaurants were open at this hour.

Finally, the quartet arrived in the Dark Lands, Koopa’s dominion. Smoothly, the Koopa King landed his airship and steered her toward the docking bay. After the airship was finished docking, Koopa and his passengers disembarked.

“We’ll be using this to get to your properties,” said Koopa, indicating his Clown Car. “Interesting ride, isn’t it?”

The three brothers studied the smiling clown face on the front of the car. “Uh—yeah,” they replied in unison.

Koopa hopped on and held out a clawed hand to his guests. One by one, he helped them aboard.

“And here we go,” Koopa sang out as the Clown Car took flight, sweeping the foursome over the castles, moats and manors of the Dark Lands.

“Hey—I smell perfume,” Manny said after a while. “It’s a woman’s perfume!”

“I know,” said Koopa. “Heavenly, isn’t it?”

“Was—she in this car recently?” asked Vince.

“Do you really think I’d take that risk tonight? But yes, she was,” said Koopa.

“How often do you wash this thing?” asked Shane.

“Often enough,” eyerolled Koopa. “Fact is, I like the smell of her perfume. It calms me when I’m under stress. So, when the time comes to wash this thing, I do it in such away that this smell isn’t washed off. If they could make soap with that fragrance, then I’d buy it in a heartbeat.”

“I hear that you want to throw a party at your castle,” Vince spoke up.

“Yeah. A slumber party,” said Koopa. “I’ve decided to postpone it until my two friends get back from vacation.”

“Didn’t know MH allowed that,” said Shane.

“Yeah. Greenie’s combos were that bad. I wish they’d waited it out a little. Then they would’ve contributed to Project Nerf. But they’re gonna be so elated when they get the news.”

“When are they coming back?” asked Manny.

“They’re scheduled to return to Smash next Monday,” said Koopa. “I’m going to meet them at the train station.”

“You’re a true friend,” Vince said wistfully.

The Clown Car arrived at a decent-sized castle with purple walls and navy blue turrets. Red and gold flags with a white “S” on them waved proudly, mounted on the turrets. Koopa pressed a button on the remote control, and a drawbridge lowered itself over the moat.

“Here we are at Shane’s castle,” said Koopa, handing the remote control to Shane. “What do you think?”

“Wow—it’s even better than the virtual tour!” crowed Shane.

Koopa lowered the Clown Car and helped Shane out. Then, he handed Shane the deed to the castle, as well as other important documents, all organized in a large envelope. “Don’t lose these,” he cautioned.

“I won’t, I assure you,” grinned Shane. “Thanks, man! You’re one in a million! I’m organizing a housewarming party right now!”

“Good night, Shane,” said Vince.

“’Night, Shane,” added Manny.

Shane waved. “Sweet dreams, guys!”

The three watched as Shane skipped into his castle.

“Onward,” said Koopa, and they got moving again.

“I’ve never seen Shane this happy since we started making real progress with Project Nerf,” smiled Vince.

“Wonder how he’s going to use his new castle,” mused Manny.

“Hopefully wisely,” said Koopa. “Alright, Manny. This is your castle.”

Manny stared. His castle had cream-colored walls, cream-and-silver striped turrets and blue flags with a silver “MB” on them scattered all around. In place of a drawbridge, there was a moving walkway leading to the castle entrance.

“Whoa,” breathed Manny.

The Clown Car lowered beside the moving walkway, and the Koopa King helped Manny off before giving him the important household documents.

“Place your thumb on the sensor,” said Koopa. “The moving walkway will activate.”

“Thanks, Koopa. I’ll never forget this,” Manny said gratefully. “Good night, Vince.”

“Good night, Manny,” said Vince.

Manny entered his thumbprint into the sensor and stepped onto the moving walkway as it came to life. Slowly, he rode the walkway into his castle, waving at Vince and Koopa the whole way.

“Okay, Vince,” said Koopa. “Let’s get you to your new digs.”

With that, the Clown Car continued on its way.

“Aren’t you going to celebrate Luigi’s nerf in your own—special way?” asked Vince.

“Definitely, but not right now,” said Koopa. “Don’t you worry—I haven’t forgotten.”

“You’re waiting until everything dies down? Smart.”

“Well, first I’ve got to show you to your new homes,” said Koopa. “Then, I have to prepare for my friends’ arrival. Not to mention keeping MH off my tail.”

“While we’re on the subject, I got a call from CH earlier,” said Vince. “He sounded a little—unnerving. He wanted my assurance that I wasn’t gonna blab about Project Nerf. Of course, I’m not gonna blab.”

“Me neither,” said Koopa. “That’s asking for a death wish, considering that I have two pesky plumbers breathing down my neck. And furthermore, why this sudden concern over us blabbing?”

“Chad,” realized Vince. “He’s trying to get out from under CH’s thumb.”

“I don’t blame him. Being under that glove’s thumb is a fate worse than death. But you didn’t hear that from me.” Koopa pulled up to the last castle. “Here we are, Vince. What do you think?”

“Oh, my…” said Vince as he surveyed the property.

Vince’s castle was the largest of the three. Its violet walls were festooned with silver, gold and pink banners. Gold turrets were topped by burgundy flags with a gold “V” on them. The moving walkway to the castle was a lovely multimedia experience and perfectly personalized. Vince couldn’t stop staring as Koopa lowered the Clown Car to the entrance.

“Welcome, Vince,” said a pleasing female voice as Vince hopped off the Clown Car.

“This place knows my name!” cried Vince, giddier than a kid at Christmas.

Koopa handed Vince his important documents.

“You’ve really outdone yourself, Your Highness,” Vince went on.

“What can I say? You earned it for helping me,” said Koopa.

“I can’t wait to meet your friends,” said Vince.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to meet you, too,” said Koopa. “Maybe—the three of you can come to my castle sometime. I’d really like that.”

“I’ll talk to Manny and Shane—see if we can find time,” said Vince. “Good night, Koopa. And—thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” said Koopa. “Night-night, Vince.”

Vince hopped on the moving walkway, enthralled by the welcoming multimedia display.

“The multimedia has an on-off switch!” Koopa called after him. “It’ll save you electricity! And trust me, it has a better effect at night!”

“Got it!” Vince called back.

Smiling to himself, Koopa revved up his Clown Car and flew back to the airship dock. Once aboard his airship, he fired up the engines, un-docked and set a course back to the Smash Mansion. If he was lucky, he’d make it back in time to get a sufficient amount of sleep.


	3. T Plus 2 Days

The cheery voice of the morning radio host on a Top 40 music station roused Falco at 6a.m. on the dot. The avian rolled over in his bed and turned off his alarm. For a few minutes, he lay on his back, checking his phone for the latest e-mails and social media notifications. It was only after that was he able to drag himself out of bed.

“It’s Friday,” Falco suddenly realized, and smiled.

Friday. The end of the workweek and the beginning of the weekend. Nobody had to go to bed early tonight or wake up early the next day. A day where everyone could smile and pat themselves on the back for a job well done. Falco stretched his limbs, un-muted his TV and jumped into an invigorating shower.

The five minutes of lathering and scrubbing served as a tonic. Falco emerged from the shower, dried himself off, shook the excess water from his feathers, and then washed his face and shaved. He dressed, flung on a flight jacket and had just pulled on his boots when his phone alerted him of an incoming text.

“Marth,” he murmured when he checked the text out.

_I’m tired of cafeteria food. Some friends and I are eating at Brewster’s. U down?_

_ Sure,_ Falco texted back.

The avian strapped on his watch, made his bed and turned off the TV. Eating at Brewster’s, rather than the cafeteria, meant freedom from Mario’s gaze. After grabbing up his stuff, Falco was out the door.

It was a short walk to Brewster’s Café. Falco was welcomed by the eponymous host upon arrival and directed toward the table where his friends sat. They beamed at him as he arrived and made himself comfortable.

“Right on time!” laughed Marth. “I ordered you your favorite.”

“I appreciate that,” said Falco. “Hey, guess what? It’s Friday.”

A chorus of whoops met this remark.

“I wonder if Koopa’s gonna throw his party tonight,” said Kyle.

“No doubt,” said Steve. “He has a thing for living dangerously.”

“That’s the truth of it,” said Koopa as he strode toward the table and sat beside Falco.

“Hey! There he is!” greeted Roy.

“Looks like those three brothers are officially part of your dominion now,” said Chase.

“It genuinely touched me to see them so happy,” said Koopa. “Now—I suppose you’re wondering about the party.”

“Uh-huh,” chorused everyone.

“Well, I can now tell you that it’s gonna be a slumber party,” said Koopa, “and it’s gonna be next Monday night. Oh, and everyone’s invited.”

“Monday night? Why not tonight?” asked Dark Pit.

“Because on Monday, two good friends of mine will be returning from vacation,” explained Koopa.

“No way. Don’t tell me…” said Falco.

“That’s right. Ganondorf and Wario,” said Koopa. “Yes, Dorf and I ran afoul of some issues in Brawl, but we managed to smooth things over. Boy, am I gonna have some news for him.”

“He never liked Luigi, huh?” asked Rolf.

“First, there was Event 51 in Melee, and then those combos. I wish I’d told him about Project Nerf sooner.” He gulped down some coffee a waitress had served to him. “I won’t be surprised if he heard about it through the grapevine and contributed in secret. And Wario’s always had my respect, being the anti-Mario and all. I’m going to meet their train as it pulls into the depot.”

“You want any of us to come with you?” asked Kyle.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Koopa. 

_So_, said Mewtwo, _any plans for tonight?_

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to Shane’s housewarming party,” said Marth.

“Housewarming party?” asked Falco.

“Didn’t you hear? Shane’s so excited about his castle that he can’t wait to show it off to us,” said Marth.

“What about Vince and Manny? Will they host housewarming parties?” asked Stevie.

“That’s for them to decide,” shrugged Koopa.

“Sounds fun,” said Steve. “Do we need to register or anything?”

“He posted a registration form on Miiverse,” said Marth. “Registration closes at 5p.m. I’d suggest registering before your matches start.”

“Thanks for telling us, Marth,” said Falco. “Otherwise, we all would’ve spent the night cooling our heels, and that’s no fun.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” said Marth. “You’ll find all the information you need on the document—how to dress, if you need to bring food, things like that.”

Chase nodded. “Sounds like my kind of party.”

Just then, their food arrived, and they all dug in.

**1.1.1**

“Excuse me, L?”

Luigi turned. Eden stood there, looking a little nervous.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” replied Eden. “Do you remember me?”

“Sure, I do,” smiled Luigi. “I—I’ve meant to talk to you.”

“Same,” Eden said softly. “Look, I’m sorry—about what happened that morning—I didn’t know why it had to be me.”

Gently, Luigi shushed her. “It isn’t your fault,” he said. “I don’t hold you in any way responsible for anything that’s happened. A nerf is a nerf, and I can’t do anything about it—except adjust.”

“It’s been so hard for you lately,” Eden observed. “I mean—if there’s anything I can do…”

“The best thing you can do is have my back when times get tough,” said Luigi. “Can you do that for me, Eden?”

Eden brightened. “Yeah.”

“Great,” said Luigi. “As long as my friends have my back, my nerf doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Are you gonna be okay, L?”

Luigi thought it over. “Eventually,” he replied. “Thanks for checking up on me.”

Eden smiled. “I’m glad I got to talk to you, L.”

“I’m glad I got to talk to you, as well,” said Luigi.

The two of them shared a hug.

“See you round,” said Eden before they parted ways.

**1.1.1**

After Marth, Falco and the others were finished eating, they strolled from Brewster’s to the Smash Mansion, as usual, to look at their schedules.

“When do you think you’re gonna fight him?” asked Roy as they filed into the Main Hall.

“I believe that’s up to Master Hand,” shrugged Falco.

“Don’t you want to?” Steve piped up.

“I guess,” mumbled Falco.

“You guess? What’s the big idea?” Rolf wanted to know.

“Yeah,” said Stevie. “What’s this really about?”

Falco heaved a huge sigh. “I’m gonna be honest with you guys, because you’ve been so kind to me,” he began. “Truth is, I still feel awful over blowing up at him like that, and I don’t know how Luigi will react to being my opponent again.”

“You told him the truth,” said Marth.

“I could’ve been nicer about it,” said Falco.

“How?” everyone chorused.

“I—I don’t know. I just—am I glad he got nerfed? Definitely! Do I feel necessarily great about losing his trust? No.”

“You know perfectly well that you had to choose between him and the cause,” said Koopa. “You couldn’t have both.”

“Well, now I wish I could’ve. I miss him as a friend. He and Mario told me that they could learn to tolerate me again, but that was the day before this patch.” Falco wished that his pals could understand. “When Luigi and I got stuck in that elevator together, my first instinct was to make small talk. But Luigi—he was strong enough to take a risk and tell me what he really felt after keeping it sealed in a can for weeks. I don’t know about you guys, but I think that’s saying something.”

_You’re not alone in that, Falco_, thought Chad, hiding nearby.

“Luigi’s nerf vindicates me somewhat. But sometimes, I think about his eyes when I said those things to him. Had I talked things out calmly with him, maybe it would’ve led to a better outcome.”

“What happened between you two is regrettable,” Chase conceded, “but it brought you to us—and us to you.”

“But look at the cost,” said Falco. “Every time Mario’s name is mentioned, we nearly [bleep] ourselves. Luigi is a stranger to us now—we’re afraid to approach him, for fear he’ll somehow find out what we did. And our aggressive attitude thus far only got us a tongue lashing from Master Hand. I mean—did we really gain anything from this?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Stevie. “Of course, we gained something from this! With those stupid combos gone, we gained a better advantage!”

“So you could use Luigi as a punching bag?”

“Obviously,” said Steve.

“I wanted Luigi to learn something from this, not suffer from it,” said Falco.

“He _is_ learning,” snorted Koopa. “The hard way.”

A beat.

“Enough of this talk,” said Dark Pit. “Let’s see what goodies MH has in store for us today.”

The tension simmered as the conspirators gathered round the sheet of paper.

Falco sighed. Once again, he’d escaped a match with both Mario Bros. Around him, he heard chuckles as everyone else found Luigi’s name somewhere in their lineup. There were more chuckles as a handful of them found Chad’s name there, too. The avian didn’t know what to feel regarding this. On the one hand, he enjoyed watching Luigi’s neat little strategy blow up in his face for once, but on the other hand, he felt like a less honorable fighter by helping perpetuate his nerf.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Chad, watching the scene with avid interest.

Their eyes met.

Chad nodded to Falco.

And Falco responded in kind.

An understanding was starting to form between them.

**1.1.1**

“I’m telling you, the dress is blue with black stripes,” said Crazy Hand.

“Dear brother, you are certainly mistaken,” Master Hand shot back. “The dress is white with gold stripes.”

It was almost lunchtime, and so far, the two Hands had a quiet morning. The Smashers seemed properly chastened by yesterday’s little talk, as there were no more reports of Luigi getting a hard time. Still, MH wasn’t about to drop his guard anytime soon.

“Your perception of color deceives you,” cooed CH. “It’s blue with black stripes. I even have a picture of it.” He held up a picture of the aforementioned dress.

MH looked at the picture. “How do you know it hasn’t been Photoshopped? I possess scientific observations and testimonials that can proof that the dress is white and gold.”

“Show-off,” huffed CH.

“Well, if you feel that badly about it, we can always get our Smashers’ opinions on the subject,” offered MH.

“How are we gonna find time to go around asking our Smashers about this dress? Put up a poll on Miiverse?”

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” said MH.

A brisk knock sounded.

“Enter,” said MH.

Mario walked in, fresh from a match. He was sweaty and banged up, a cut over his right eyebrow.

“Ah, Mario, thank goodness!” CH said breathily. Holding out the photo, he queried, “What color is this dress?”

Mario’s eyes twinkled, and he smiled. “It’s white and gold, of course!”

“D—mit!” hissed CH.

“Don’t feel so bad,” MH assured his twin.

“Okay,” sulked CH. “I’m gonna get something to eat. You want anything?”

“I’ll just have a Master Burger and fries,” said MH, “and a large Diet Coke. You want anything, Mario?”

“I’m craving a bacon cheddar burger with some onion rings and a raspberry smoothie,” said Mario. “To go. This won’t take long.”

CH wrote everything down on a piece of paper. “All right. I’ll be back, bearing the grub!” he sang out before teleporting away.

MH sat back in his chair. “What can I do for you, Mario?” he asked.

“I just wanna know how the investigation’s coming,” said Mario.

“It’s going well. I’ve sent word to Sakurai and his team requesting an interview on the matter.”

Mario blinked. “You think he knows something?”

“His eagerness to approve a nerf on Luigi sounds suspicious.”

“When he came to visit,” said Mario. “I sensed something, too. But I just didn’t want to rock the boat. Earlier, I’d allowed myself to let go of my anger at Falco. My primary focus was being there for my bro—and it still is.”

“I couldn’t help but noticed that he’s using his down throw less frequently,” said MH.

“That’s a wise move on his part,” said Mario. “Putting it aside for a while will do something about that muscle memory.”

“Muscle memory?”

“He’s done those old combos for so long…”

“He still needs to get used to it.”

Mario nodded. “There’s something else,” he said softly. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Fire away,” said MH.

“I would like to know the names of the people who complained about Luigi all month long,” Mario said in an unsettlingly polite tone.

MH blinked. “I’m sorry—are you being funny?”

“Do I look like I’m being funny?”

MH stared. “Mario Jumpman, I’m surprised at you. You know perfectly well that I’m not at liberty to disclose that information.”

“Then can you at least direct me to someone who can?”

“Mario,” said MH. “When Smashers come to me with complaints or suggestions, confidentiality is automatically guaranteed. You’re asking me to break that confidence in the name of what I can assume to be petty revenge. Wha—what do you want with those names, anyway?”

“Luigi and I deserve to know who suggested something like this,” Mario said evenly. “If you suspect that someone willingly subverted this tournament to hurt one of us, then wouldn’t you feel the same way?”

“I’d do everything in my power to find them and see that they’re justly punished,” said MH.

“Then can you at least understand how I feel?”

“Sure, I can. It’s not like I don’t understand. It’s just what you’re asking me to do violates everything I believe in.”

“He’s been through so much,” sighed Mario. “Falco, a good friend of his, turned on him, simply because he lost a match. He’s knelt outside your door, listening to many of his opponents have a cow. And now he’s enduring harassment and trash-talking, because they think his nerf is a shield. You’re the powerful Hand of Creation, and yet you capitulated to these salty complainants.”

“If my Smashers point out something amiss, then it’s my duty to address it.”

“My brother’s combos were considered a blight because they made it that way,” Mario said, with some heat. “This has to be a personal vendetta.”

“We don’t know that it’s personal yet,” MH said, softly and patiently. “When the issue was brought to my attention, I had to treat it as a valid concern. All concerns regarding tournament mechanics must be corrected. No Smasher should have too much of an advantage over another.”

“The tournament’s ‘fair and balanced’ rhetoric and people’s conniptions over a specific Smasher’s playstyle are merely two ends of the same snake,” said Mario. “No matter which end you pick up, you still grab a snake.”

“You get no argument from me there,” said MH, “but you must remember that one end of the snake will bite.” He spread his fingers. “Again, I understand what you and Luigi must be going through, but what you’re asking of me can’t be done.”

“I understand,” Mario said after a beat.

CH warped back in with the food.

“Order up!” he announced. “By the way, I talked to the guy manning the cash register, and he says that the dress is blue and black.”

He set the food on MH’s desk, and Mario took the white paper bag with his name written on it. “It’s still warm,” he mused, opening the bag and popping an onion ring into his mouth.

Rising from his chair, he added, “Thank you for your time. I’ll see you round.” Smiling cordially, he shook both Hands’ pointer fingers, took his food and left.

“So,” said CH. “What did he want?”

“Trust me,” sighed MH. “You don’t want to know.”

**1.1.1**

The SUV pulled up to the loading zone in front of the high school. Slinging on his backpack, Ethan waved goodbye to his friends and hopped into the backseat, next to Anna, who’d been picked up from the elementary school several minutes prior.

“Hey, lil’ sis,” said Ethan, kissing Anna on the cheek. “How’d your day go?”

“Super-duper,” chirped Anna. “Minimum days are fun!”

“Aren’t they?” sighed Ethan.

Vanessa sat at the wheel, observing her kids through the rearview mirror. “Did you two behave yourselves?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“All right. We’ll go home so you can drop off your backpacks and—do you have any homework?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Mom, it’s Friday. The teachers normally don’t assign homework on Fridays.”

“I don’t have any homework, either,” said Anna.

“Then after you drop off your backpacks, what do you say to—a trip to the Smash mansion?” asked Vanessa.

“Yay!” squealed Anna.

“I’m down,” said Ethan, “but I’d like to take a shower first. I stink.”

“Very well,” said Vanessa. “Remember, though, one scene, and we go straight home.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” said Ethan. “We’ll behave ourselves.”

He leaned out the window and called out to his friends as the SUV drove away. “See you next month, guys!”

His friends waved and called out after him.

“Isn’t this great, Anna?” chortled Ethan as he put his arm around his baby sister. “We get the whole month to ourselves!”

Anna smiled, leaning into the embrace. She was enjoying the new Ethan. The boy of one month ago used to mercilessly tease her because she was better at playing as Luigi in Smash. But following his brief suspension from school, Ethan had grown out of those habits. He was a Mario fan, after all, and wasn’t Mario the best big brother ever? Ethan had resolved to be more like his hero once his suspension was lifted, and he was keeping to that resolution so far.

Vanessa was also looking forward to the coming month. Sure, the kids were off track, but the family could spend more quality time together. Thanks to the update patch, Ethan showed a greater interest in mastering Luigi and was less inclined to get frustrated when he lost. They could also go on brief trips out of town whenever Theo was off from work. His job was the usual 9 to 5 schedule, and he had the weekends off. He’d even sweet-talk his boss into leaving early on Friday, with varying degrees of success.

Mother, son and daughter were in high spirits, singing along to tunes on the radio throughout the drive home.

**1.1.1**

90 minutes later, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna drove to the Smash Mansion, the kids dressed in fresh clothes. After obtaining visitors’ passes, the trio headed to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat.

The Smashers were already having their lunch when the three arrived.

Vanessa’s face lit up when she saw that familiar blonde hair. “Hey, Peach!” she cried.

Peach turned, and her eyes sparkled with recognition. “Vanessa!”

The two women shared a big hug, and Peach gave Vanessa a peck on the cheek.

“How’ve you been?” asked Peach.

“Better, now that Ethan’s behaving himself,” smiled Vanessa.

The Mushroom Princess’s eyes fell on the two children. “Shouldn’t you be in school?” she asked.

“Today was a minimum day,” said Ethan.

“Track change,” explained Vanessa. “They have this month off. That’s gonna be fun.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” said Peach. “Come and sit with us. There’s plenty of room.”

Lunch was a choice of grilled cheese or hot dogs with a side of fries, a salad bar, a beverage bar and a dessert bar. Ethan got a hot dog, Anna got grilled cheese, and Vanessa made herself a salad. They sat in the spaces Peach offered them and began to chow down.

“Hey, kids,” Mario greeted them. “Nice to see you again.”

“Same here,” Anna said cheerfully.

“Yeah,” said Ethan, a little distractedly. He was an avid Mario fan, but he had words with the portly plumber after Luigi defeated him in an intense bout on Mario Galaxy. The teen felt guilty for what he’d said to Mario, and Mario had been pretty upset over the incident. Even now, watching Ethan take careful bites of his hot dog, eyes fixed on the tray, Mario remembered how the kid screamed all sorts of abuse in his direction, threw things at him, and even took swings at him. The following day, Vanessa had made him apologize, but it had sounded reluctant and forced. Weeks later, Ethan wanted to make things right with his idol. He just had to figure out how.

“So—you’re on break from school?” asked Mario.

“Yup. We earned it,” Ethan said casually.

“Just don’t spend your break aggravating your mom, yeah?”

“Of course not,” smiled Anna.

“Enough talk about us,” said Ethan, testing the waters. “Let’s talk about _you_. How’ve you been?”

“Just like the other Smashers—trying to adjust to the new patch,” said Mario. “Thanks for asking, though.”

“That’s okay—we’re trying to adjust, too,” said Vanessa. “I still can’t believe they made a stage out of Super Mario Maker.”

“Hey—they can make a stage out of any game these days,” said Mario.

Laughter.

Anna’s eyes slowly fell on Luigi, absorbed in browsing through his smartphone while methodically chewing his sandwich.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hm?” he asked.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m fine, Anna. Thanks for asking,” said Luigi, but Anna wasn’t so sure.

It was Ethan’s turn to gaze at Luigi, and what he saw startled him. The plumber continued to munch on his sandwich and play around with his phone, but his eyes—they always said that eyes were the windows to the soul, and this was no different here. And in Luigi’s bright blue eyes, Ethan saw that these past few days hadn’t treated him nicely. Guilt pierced him like thousands of shards of glass, leaving small cuts under the skin.

“Yeah, I meant to ask,” said Vanessa. “How’s the transition coming for you?”

“It’s not easy,” said Luigi. “It never is. But I’m learning. I’ve clocked in more hours than usual in the Training Room. It’s in an actual fight where I run into problems. My muscle memory kicks in, and it messes me up. I need to un-learn the old combos before I can start applying the new ones.”

“New ones?” asked Ethan.

“Yeah,” said Luigi. “After coming to terms with my nerf, I realized that I could use it to make new combos. Where do you think my old ones came from in the first place? They didn’t just fall out of the sky one day. I had to create them myself and practice them. That’s how I’ve become more of a viable fighter.”

“The combos or the practicing?” asked Anna.

“Both, but more so with the practicing,” said Luigi. “Without the practice, I wouldn’t have had the old combos to begin with. And with more practicing, I’ll be able to utilize the new combos. Not all of my combos originated from my down throw. I have other combo tools I can pull out of my proverbial pocket.”

Vanessa nodded. “You’re gonna get through this, L. You just need to have faith in yourself.”

“Yeah. Good luck, L,” said Ethan. “Maybe I’ll start maining you after unraveling your mysteries.”

“I’d like that,” Luigi said quietly.

As they continued eating, Vanessa remembered the words she’d said to her husband on the morning the new patch went live.

_I fear that all we’ve accomplished is to awaken a sleeping giant…_

**1.1.1**

He slipped below the surface of the bath, holding onto the edge of the tub for support. The thing he liked most about this was the silence. All of the sounds around him subdued or muffled. And he also felt as if this bath was washing his own thoughts away.

The image of Luigi in his arms swam before his closed eyes before dissolving into a series of images of Luigi in battle, red-faced, sweaty, determined. Eyes bright, mouth rounded, breathing steadily in and out. Images which clicked through Mario’s mind like a viewfinder. Invigorating coolness surrounded him, sloshing in his ears and lapping at the back of his neck, and yet the images of his baby bro kept him hot. Those images dissolved yet again into images of sneering faces and scornful laughter and mocking smirks, of glasses clashing together in toasts and greedy eyes watching Luigi fail. And then those images swirled away, replaced with images of bruises, bloody noses and lips, cuts and lacerations and tears. Images which dissolved one last time into an image of Master Hand, floating imposingly, slowly shaking his head “no”.

_What you’re asking of me can’t be done._

A thrill of cold shot through him, and his eyes snapped open. Of course, what he could see was blurred, due to being immersed in water. He stayed perfectly still, listening to his heart rate slow down, waiting for the bath to wash his anger away. MH said he understood what Mario was feeling, but did he, really? Didn’t he also have a brother? Okay, CH had an unpredictable streak to him, but he was MH’s blood nonetheless. Wouldn’t he come to CH’s aid if he was in trouble? Well, Luigi was being antagonized because his old combos didn’t work anymore, and he was having trouble adjusting to the new mechanics. And Mario was just doing his duty—protecting his baby brother. His feeling that this patch was part of a conspiracy had increased, and all he wanted to do was narrow down the list of suspected conspirators.

He knew Falco had a hand in this. And Koopa being a suspect was a no-brainer. And several Smashers, like Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle, Rolf, Chase and the two Steves, were avoiding Luigi lately. There was something they were keeping from him, and Mario was going to find out what sooner or later.

As his body shifted under the bathwater, it occurred—Luigi wasn’t sitting around and sulking, so why should he? It was time for him to think about the positives. First and foremost being that Luigi never gave up. He went into his fights knowing about his nerf, and yet he faced down his opponents anyway, fighting to the best of his ability. He’d managed to give a pretty good fight before going down. Mario shouldn’t count that out. Or how amazing it felt to watch him, trudging and struggling on, refusing to get frustrated, unlike his opponents whenever they were at a disadvantage. And he didn’t lose all of his bouts, just most of them. Now that he’d temporarily set aside his down throw, his mind would have time to breathe, and it would be easier to put those new combos into practice. He remembered the sight of his brother in the Training Area on the day of the nerf, pummeling Sandbags. After a good cry that morning, he was ready to get back into the game. He wasn’t thinking about the people who presumably got him nerfed—was he?

He broke the surface of the bathwater with a small gasp, hoisting himself into a sitting position, knees tucked slightly in. Mario glanced at the clock. Matches were about to resume, and he needed to get ready.

Carefully, he stepped out of the bath, drained the tub, and dried himself off before combing and brushing his hair and dressing in clean clothes. As he emerged into his bedroom, Mario suddenly realized that he was no longer alone.

The portly plumber flattened himself against the wall and inched forward, picking up his trusty hammer along the way. Creeping closer, he saw the man, nonchalantly leafing through his things. He recognized the fellow—he and his three buddies had been on his tail since yesterday. What could he possibly be looking for?

Mario advanced on the man, hammer raised. He took a preparatory breath.

And then he pounced.

Timmy barely managed to guard his face in time, receiving a glancing blow to his right arm, the force sending him stumbling. Casting his hammer aside, Mario punched the intruder in the solar plexus once—twice—three times, until Timmy was slumped over in pain. Swiftly, the plumber grappled with him, tossing him onto the bed and straddling his hips, pinning him.

“Good to see you, too, M,” groaned Timmy.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” Mario said softly, stroking the other man’s jaw with his thumb.

Timmy chuckled.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, breaking in here,” Mario went on. “I’m going to give you about thirty seconds to tell me exactly what in the Inferno you think you’re doing in my room.”

“I’m afraid that’s classified,” Timmy said coolly.

“Yeah. That’s what they always say,” said Mario.

“A little birdie told me that you want to know who’s complained to MH about your brother last month,” said Timmy.

“That’s right,” cooed Mario, “and I’m not about to let this go anytime soon.”

“I believe you.”

“One last thing—why have you and your friends been following me?”

Timmy laughed. “All I have to say is—you’re a very good-looking man, and that you should do the math.”

Mario couldn’t help but blush at the remark.

“You know, Mario, if my friends and I were to follow you around—properly—then you’d never f—in’ know,” grinned Timmy.

Mario smiled sweetly at him. “Well—good luck with that,” he said.

He climbed off of Timmy and hauled him to his feet. “When your friends ask you what happened here this afternoon, tell them that Nintendo’s mascot isn’t f—ing around anymore.”

“I’ll make sure they get the message,” Timmy said calmly. “I’ll see myself out, if you don’t mind.”

**1.1.1**

“Isn’t it strange how we keep running into each other?” asked Chad as he and Charlie met up in the stands.

“Well, we _are_ Smashers,” said Charlie. “It’s a given that we’ll cross paths frequently.”

Chad grinned like a fool. “Uh—is it okay if I sit here? The front row’s usually the best.”

“Sure,” said Charlie.

Carefully, Chad settled himself into his seat. “Listen,” he began. “There’s something—I forgot to tell you the morning we met. Something…” He sighed. “…something I think you should know.”

Charlie looked nervous. “What is it?” she asked.

Chad took a deep breath and blurted it out.

“I forgot to tell you that I’m a major Castlevania fan.”

“Castlevania?! No way!” gushed Charlie. “I’ve absolutely heard of that game!” Then, her face fell. “And there’s something I need to confess to you, too.”

“Er—okay.”

“You know the protagonist of the first game, Simon Belmont?”

“I do.”

“Well, I used to have a crush on him,” blushed Charlie.

“A crush on Simon Belmont? That’s understandable,” shrugged Chad. “I mean, who _wouldn’t_ crush on Simon? He’s totally f—in’ ripped! And he wears that tunic and shows off those thighs! Man, a body like that is to die for!”

“You sound like you’ve crushed on him, too,” said Charlie.

“Well—kinda,” confessed Chad.

“And let me tell you something else—I actually had the pleasure of meeting him,” Charlie said excitedly.

“No—way.”

“Way. At a Castlevania convention in Pittsburgh, PA. Along with a few other members of the Belmont clan.”

“Richter? Trevor? Alucard? Maria?”

“Just Richter and Maria.” Charlie smiled at the memory. “There was a Q&A panel, and I had so many questions that I had to pick the most gnawing one. Afterwards, there was time for autographs and photo ops. One of these days, I’ll show you the pictures.”

“Wow,” said Chad. “I’ve really missed a lot. Did—Dracula show up, by any chance?”

“No, silly. Dracula hates light, remember? But it would’ve been interesting, watching the Belmont clan battle their sworn enemy.”

“I take it Death’s invitation also got lost in the mail?”

“Yup. He’s always scared the heck out of me.”

“How about the other monsters? Did they pop out and scare anyone? Any mummies? Medusa? Carmilla, perhaps, with her tears of blood?”

“I wish,” said Charlie. “Like I said, they don’t like lit up environments. They prefer to slink around castles and dungeons and the like. And I stayed in touch with Simon and Richter after the convention. We’ve exchanged letters, and later e-mails, and most recently, we’re following each other on social media.” Smiling, she concluded, “I’m a Castlevania fan as well as a Luigi fan.”

“You know, the Smash Ballot’s still online,” said Chad. “Just put Simon’s name, or Richter’s name, or both, on there, and there’s a chance MH will make things happen.”

“My God, you read my mind!” gasped Charlie.

They turned as Luigi appeared on the appointed stage. Chad couldn’t help but remembered their talk yesterday afternoon. He’d come so close to confessing, and Crazy Hand had probably sensed that, hence his summoning to the office. Worse yet, he’d probably left Luigi with more questions, rather than closure over the way he used to act, what with the abrupt manner in which he’d taken his leave. Once he got CH off his back, Chad would try again.

“Hey,” Charlie piped up. “What if Luigi wound up in one of those castles?”

“Hm? Oh, you mean Dracula’s castle?”

“Yeah! That would be so cool! I think Luigi would handle himself quite well in that situation.”

“It would make for an interesting crossover, but you’re forgetting one thing,” warned Chad.

“What’s that?”

“Luigi is used to fighting ghosts, not monsters,” said Chad. “That nifty gadget on his back will be next to useless against Dracula and his minions. There’s no other way to say it. In Dracula’s Castle, Luigi will be a fish out of water. He probably won’t last very long.”

“Wow,” said Charlie. “Never would’ve thought that. Well, hopefully, Luigi won’t have to set foot in that castle.”

“I’m keeping my fingers crossed on that, too,” said Chad.

Lauren and Eden scurried over, quickly taking their seats.

“We’re not late, are we?” gasped Lauren.

“Nope, you’re just in time,” Charlie assured her.

The two friends slumped in relief.

“Oh, hey, Chad,” said Eden.

“Hey,” replied Chad.

“Crazy few days, huh?”

“Say that again. We’ve never had an update patch like this before.”

“Poor L’s taken the brunt of it, but he’s handling it well enough,” said Lauren.

“Hey, uh, Chad and I were just talking about the possibility of including the Castlevania universe in this tournament,” said Charlie. “What do you guys think?”

“Castlevania? Absolutely! I’d love to hang with those Belmont hunks!” gushed Eden. “Maybe L can bond with them, too, seeing they have a common interest.”

“Simon and Richter fight monsters. Luigi fights ghosts,” said Chad. “That’s a very big difference.”

Lauren paled. “I hope Luigi doesn’t run afoul of any of those monsters, then,” she said. “Especially Death. One slice of his scythe, and it’s game over.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” said Charlie, with a small shudder.

As the match got underway, everyone groaned as Luigi’s opponent commenced their usual grandstanding. Making a big show of dodging Luigi’s attacks and grab attempts and making snide comments rather than taking the opportunity to counterattack. As Lauren said, Luigi handled it pretty well. Better yet, he practically ignored it. Not a muscle twitched on his face as insults continued to be spat in his direction. While the opponent just stood there, mouthing off, he reminded them that talking wasn’t a free action in a Smash battle. He hoped that taking a few punches or kicks would sober them up. Boy, was he wrong.

But he kept going, baiting his opponent into making punishable mistakes, turning their cockiness into a weapon against them. Even Luigi’s harshest detractors were left speechless, watching him maneuver fluidly and acrobatically about the stage and batter his foe with swift sneak attacks. He was definitely rebuilding his strategy from the bottom up. Perhaps the opponent should lay off on the taunting and take notice.

The remainder of Luigi’s attacks still packed a lot of hurt, and his breakdance kick had gotten a miniscule buff. His opponents following the patch had found this out the hard way and had the audacity to act shocked, as if he’d relied on his down throw alone. He didn’t win most of his fights so far, but he didn’t lose without leaving bruises on them. That was what Luigi’s focus was on, wiping the smirks off of everyone’s faces, rather than winning.

Until he had a better grip on his new combos, Luigi’s strategy was a mix of defense, offense and stealth. Most of his foes, especially this one, only wanted to get back at him for the times he’d defeated them using his old combos. That was all right. They were so distracted by revenge that they barely saw him coming. He’d weave in, slam punches and Smash attacks into the solar plexus or abdomen and dance back out before they even realized what had happened. He’d jump over and around them, dealing flurries of f-airs as he went. They’d swing at him, but he’d simply shield or dodge. The best they could do was grab him, slam him around and toss him about, but he recovered swiftly and used his Golden Leg to even the score. When he wasn’t whaling on them with f-airs, u-airs, b-airs and other swift but sharp attacks, then he was whaling on them with Smash attacks, followed by a Cyclone or a back throw. Throwing them around usually gave him time to compose himself before dashing back in. And to take a stock, he’d either let himself fly with a Misfire or take his chances with a Super Jump Punch. Or simply kick them off the ledge with his down taunt.

It was when the opponent was on their last stock that things began to change.

Up till now, the advantage had teeter-tottered. When the opponent wasn’t preening for the crowd, they could hit hard. Luigi had been winded twice, and the doubts and teasing nearly caught up to him. But he’d steeled himself upon hearing Mario’s voice and seeing the faces in the stands that hadn’t given up on him. He steadied his breathing and kept going. He held on, and now he had a chance of winning.

Luigi fought with greater and greater agility. His foe would knock him out of the air, but he just got right back up. The flustered opponent hurled dares and invective at him, but once again, the plumber didn’t even bat an eyelash. He continued pelting them with blows and jumping out of the way when they swiped at him, kicking them off their feet whenever they managed to send him to the floor. And when he broke free from a grab, it happened.

As the opponent stared in shock, Luigi hit them sharply with a u-tilt—and then followed up with an up smash.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

“Wow…” gasped Mario.

“Did he just…?” asked Chad.

“I think he did,” said Lauren.

Luigi had little time to think about it, for the opponent was barreling at him again. He rolled aside, kicked low, grabbed them, threw them skyward, flip-kicked them twice and then did a Cyclone.

Throwing caution to the wind, the opponent charged at Luigi again. He took a deep breath, and then—

Up tilt. And up smash.

He couldn’t believe it. He actually pulled off one of his new combos! It wasn’t a big one, but it was a good start.

On the other side of the stands, Vince and his brothers’ eyes were bugging out of their heads.

“Holy…” said Manny.

“Never would’ve thought that,” said Falco.

“They’re coming back, you guys!” shouted Peach. “His combos are coming back!”

The spectators went crazy, cheering at the top of their lungs. Luigi smiled, bolstered by this show of support. His foe, meanwhile, seemed to realize that now they were in bad trouble.

Flustered, the opponent swung. Luigi sidestepped.

And up tilt. And—up smash.

That was a good takeoff point. He could follow it up with a string of aerials or a Cyclone. It wasn’t much, but he could build from that.

The two Steves exchanged disbelieved looks.

“No way is this happening,” grumbled Steve.

But it was. It was. Luigi continued to fine-tune the up tilt to up smash combo into a jumping off point with different branches. He’d often substitute the up smash for a kick if the opponent managed to jump away.

In his spot in the middle seat of the first row, Mario gazed at the action with nothing but love in his eyes. His lil’ bro was picking himself back up, bit by bit, and he could never be happier. The portly plumber’s heart began to race as Luigi played around some more with the up tilt to up smash maneuver, seeing what other moves he could follow up with. Mostly aerials, but there were times he could sneak a Cyclone in. One of the follow-ups he could really hammer in was a fast-falling d-air to a n-air. His foe, meanwhile, was running about like a chicken with its head cut off. A hard punch could stop them in their tracks long enough to pull off the up tilt, up smash starter. The silence so far was only broken up by the sound of his steady breaths. They were all drinking in what he was doing. Let them.

It was a small victory on Chad’s part, as well. Thirty days of sneaking around, all for nothing. He imagined the looks on the two Steves’ faces at that moment. They surely weren’t smirking now.

But now that Luigi was starting to recover from the nerf, how would he react once Chad told him the truth? It was something he didn’t want to do, but it had to be done. Otherwise, it would haunt him until his dying day. Somehow, he had to break free of CH and do the right thing.

“I guess that nerf wasn’t as damaging as we thought,” said Charlie, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“No,” said Chad, a small smile materializing on his face. “It wasn’t.”

“See, Mario? It’s not gonna be so bad,” chirped Lauren.

Mario nodded, still transfixed by the ongoing bout.

Eventually, Luigi lost. But it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that the man in green was starting over.

**1.1.1**

Later that afternoon, Chad was relaxing in his room, reading a novel. He planned to invite Luigi over tonight after dinner. And as everyone else slept, the New Englander would confess everything. There was never a confession easier to arrange. How Luigi would react to said confession—now, _that_ was a different story.

Unfortunately for him, a certain floating hand had other plans.

Chad didn’t notice that Crazy Hand had entered his room until he looked up from his reading. The Hand of Destruction floated leisurely above him, his fingers gently wriggling.

“Mmm, good book,” said CH. “I still can’t believe that the cousin did it.”

“I believe my door was locked,” said Chad.

“I didn’t have to use the door,” CH smartly replied.

“Look, what do you want now?” Chad demanded of CH.

“To share some news,” said CH. “Shane’s throwing a housewarming party tonight.”

“Housewarming party? I thought he already had a place to stay.”

“He, along with his brothers, now owns a castle in the Dark Lands.”

“Koopa,” realized Chad.

“That’s right,” said CH. “I hope you have your best suit ready, because I’d like you to go to that party.”

“Sorry, CH, I’ve already made plans for the night,” said Chad. “If you need a date, then you’re gonna have to ask someone else.” He went back to reading his novel.

Seconds later, the book was ripped from him and balanced on CH’s index finger. As Chad watched in horror, an aura of dark magic enveloped the book, reducing it into a useless husk.

“You idiot!” snapped Chad. “That was on loan from the library!”

“Too bad for you,” CH sang out. “And another thing—I wasn’t _inviting_ you to Shane’s party.”

CH flicked his fingers at the door, which opened to reveal the two Steves, wearing black leather gloves. Matching smirks were on their faces as they stepped toward Chad.

“Come back for second helpings, have you?” asked Chad. He rose to his feet and put up his dukes. “Well, come on, then. Give it your best shot. I’m sure Eden will love to know how you disregarded her warnings!”

“Now, that I can’t allow,” said CH, also floating toward Chad.

Bravely, Chad swung. CH ducked and then grabbed the young man in his palm, squeezing relentlessly. The pain was unbearable, but Chad wasn’t about to give up. He bit down hard on CH’s finger, causing the hand to spring open in pain. Chad landed on the floor and then somersaulted back into a fighting stance.

“Come on, man! I’m not afraid of you!” he cried.

“I know,” said CH, having recovered from the bite.

Before Chad could react, CH magically bound his hands and feet and pinned him to a wall.

“Hey! You don’t fight fair!” snapped Chad, struggling against the magical bonds.

“What’s the fun in that?” asked CH as the two Steves strode forward, cracking their knuckles. “Now, let’s try this again. You _are_ going to the party tonight, yes?”

“[Bleep] you,” hissed Chad.

“I knew you’d say that,” said CH. To the two Steves, he said, “Have at him.”

Quickly, the two Steves advanced on the bound man, grinning sadistically.

“This is for yesterday, old pal,” hissed Steve before landing the first blow.

Starbursts exploded before Chad’s eyes, and he heard something crack, but he didn’t cry out. Nor did he cry out as Steve and Stevie punched him over and over, CH taking a seat on the bed and watching casually, munching on buttered popcorn from a bowl beside him. At first, the blows landed randomly, until Chad’s attackers grew tired of _playing_ and decided to cause some serious pain, unleashing barrages of punches all over the body. Even then, Chad refused to scream or show any sign of fear or weakness.

“How about now, Chad?” asked CH. “Are you going to be a good boy and go to the party?”

“Go [bleep] yourself,” Chad managed to say.

“Your funeral,” said CH as the two Steves slid on some brass knuckles.

Harder punches met already damaged flesh, yet Chad remained firm. CH impassively watched the man take it all, moving only to shovel more handfuls of popcorn into his mouth. Chad’s clothes were practically shredded, cuts and gashes littering his face and body. He was bruised and swollen, blood pouring from his mouth. And he still didn’t make a sound.

“We’re losing patience,” Stevie hissed in Chad’s ear.

Chad replied by spitting a mouthful of blood in his face.

Steve socked him so hard that his vision blurred. “CH will get his way sooner or later,” he said, “so it might as well be sooner.”

They whipped off the brass knuckles, and CH proceeded to telekinetically smash Chad into anything hard in sight, even dunking his head into a toilet and giving him a swirlie. Then, he ground Chad’s face against a wall before sending him to the floor in front of the two Steves. They kicked and stomped him as he tried to inch himself away, eventually giving up and just laying there.

The beating continued for what felt like hours, and by the time the two Steves stopped to catch their breath, Chad was covered in bruises and bleeding heavily. CH waved the two away and then floated over to where Chad lay.

“Last chance, Chad,” he said sweetly. “You’re going to go to the party with me, yes?”

Chad groaned. “Go to Hell.”

CH flexed his fingers, causing an unseen force to assail Chad’s nerves. He writhed in agony and drooled on the carpet, yet the only sound the Hand of Destruction managed to get from him was a mere grunt.

It was fifteen more minutes of this Hell before Chad finally gave up.

“You win,” he said.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” asked CH, floating next to Chad’s ear.

“You win, d—mit! I’ll go!” spat Chad. “I’ll go to the f—in’ party!”

CH grinned brightly. “Now that’s more like it,” he said, releasing Chad from his magical bonds and casting his healing power on him.

Once he was healed, Chad sat up and got to his feet. “You’re a f—ing psychopath, you know that?!” he growled.

“Well, duh. I’m the Hand of Destruction,” giggled CH. “You will meet me at the Main Entrance at a quarter to seven sharp, where my limo will drive us to Shane’s house. And I want you to know that you will be under very close observation during the party. If you so much as look at anyone in a manner that upsets them or arouses suspicion, then I’m picking up the phone and I’m dialing you-know-who.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” said Chad.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other,” said CH. “See you tonight.”

The two Steves waved mockingly at Chad as they followed CH out.

Once the door slammed after them, Chad collapsed onto his bed. “Oh, God,” he gasped. “Oh, God. Please, help me. Help me.”

**1.1.1**

Shane opened his doors to his party guests at around 6:30 that evening. He didn’t enforce a dress code, but everyone who showed up cleaned up nicely. Vanessa, for example, was clad in a sparkling green chiffon dress with no back and a slit up her thigh. Anna was dressed a little more conservatively in a purple, short-sleeved dress with poufy shoulders. Theo and Ethan wore matching, three-piece suits with combed-back hair. Falco arrived in a simple yet elegant tuxedo and bow tie, a cocktail dress-clad Kat on his arm. Koopa wore a bombastic tuxedo with an equally bombastic top hat. Marth and Roy were dressed up as if for royal court, their respective divine swords on their hips. Dark Pit wore a pimped out tunic and cape. Kyle wore a business suit and tie. Mewtwo showed up in a frilly dress shirt, slacks and a blazer. Chase wore a white shirt, a silver vest and a red tie. Steve and Stevie wore matching suits. And Rolf was clad in a black and silver ensemble.

Shane, along with his co-hosts, Manny and Vince, had their hair elegantly slicked back and were dressed in similar three-piece suits. Vince’s tie was navy blue with white stars on it, Manny’s tie was turquoise with pink stripes and Shane’s tie was purple with light blue polka dots. They welcomed their guests at the door and hooked them up with name tags and special badges so that they could go in and out of the house as they pleased. They all sat in the living room, sipping on sweet wine and playing Smash on Shane’s Wii-U console as they waited for everyone else to arrive.

Most of them simply picked a CPU Luigi as their opponent and set the difficulty to the lowest level so they could whale on him without consequence. Those who weren’t playing crowded around, cheering, laughing and shouting instructions and encouragement. Falco, Marth, Roy, Rolf and Dark Pit managed to snag two turns in a row at this. The two Steves set up a two-on-one Team Battle against the CPU Luigi and spent countless minutes punching him into oblivion. Even Koopa got in several turns, slamming the CPU of one of his sworn enemies around and pounding him with his crushing attacks. Vanessa and her family were the only ones who didn’t do this, and they actually looked slightly sickened as they watched.

“All right, turn that off,” said Shane. “Time to save some of that energy.”

Groans sounded, and shoulders sagged, but the guests obediently powered off the console. It was Shane’s property, after all. In truth, he was getting a little tired of watching his friends beat up a CPU version of the man in green, as were his brothers. It was something they used to enjoy, but not anymore. Maybe because of what they saw that afternoon. Who knew? Luigi was growing on the trio, and there was no denying it.

Finally, Crazy Hand floated in to a standing ovation. Behind him trailed Chad, his injuries perfectly healed, his hair freshly washed and styled in curls which bounced against the nape of his neck. He wore a purple dress shirt, a dark purple tie, black slacks, black socks, black shoes and a black blazer. A 14K gold watch sparkled on his non-dominant wrist, and the aroma of expensive cologne radiated from him.

The room fell silent as everyone drank Chad in. Hazel eyes evenly met the gazes of the party guests, as if to say, “Hey, I’m here—deal with it.”

“Hello,” said CH. “I hope you don’t mind, but Chad was more than happy to accompany me to this get-together. Weren’t you, Chad?”

“Oh, yes,” replied Chad.

“Welcome back, Chad,” said Shane. “Long time, no see. What do you think of my new digs?”

“Pretty awesome,” replied Chad.

“Glad you could make it, Chad,” said Falco.

“Yeah,” said Theo. “We really missed you.”

“I missed you guys, too,” replied Chad.

A latecomer bearing a resemblance to the three brothers waltzed into the room, bringing along a gorgeous woman in a sky blue party dress. “Hey, Shane!” he called. “I caught the red-eye as soon as I got the news. Congrats, man!”

“Thanks!” replied Shane. To his guests, he said, “You guys remember Stuart, right? Our brother—he used to be a Smasher.”

“Sure, we remember him!” laughed Falco. “Nice to see you, buddy! Sorry you got the heave-ho!”

“Pah, we needn’t talk about that,” said Stuart. “It’s water under the bridge, and I bear MH no ill will. I’ve spent my time traveling and thinking about what I’ve done, and if MH will have me, I’d like a second chance. But really, Luigi’s down throw was nerfed?”

“It was,” Vince said proudly.

“Gee, that’s a relief. Those combos were driving me crazy!” huffed Stuart. “But guys, now that I’ve had time to think—was antagonizing Luigi really the best idea? I mean, no matter what I threw at him, he just kept getting back up.”

His brothers were speechless. He made a very good point.

“That’s—what I’ve wanted to talk to you all about,” said Vince. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but—my bros and I have observed Luigi in the days following the nerf and—I have no words to describe how breathtaking he is on the battlefield.”

Murmurs.

“At first, he stumbled. He kept getting beat, and I enjoyed it. But by and by, I stopped enjoying it. I started getting the feeling that most were taking it a bit too far.” He threw a meaningful look at a few Smashers. “Then, he started giving his down throw a break and utilizing his other attacks, and that’s when I started to realize that I hadn’t really watched Luigi fight until now.”

More murmurs.

“And this afternoon, I know what I saw. I certainly know that you saw it, too. He took two hits, his up tilt and his up smash, and turned them into a combo setup. I’d like to take this time to open up the floor for discussion on this turn of events.”

“Honestly, I think it’s further proof that nerfing him was for the best,” said Vanessa. “It forced him to rely on his other attacks, and once he stopped relying on his down throw, he really began to shine.”

“I thought I wanted to see him fail again and again, but when he pulled that up tilt to up smash out of his pocket, I couldn’t stop rooting for him,” opined Ethan. “I could see the look on his face, and I knew something clicked. He kept using that to make more combos, and I could feel his confidence swelling. He’s not where he used to be, but he’s climbing. Luigi’s got a foothold, and he’s climbing on up.”

“I regret what I said to him that day, because I now see that he wasn’t just using his combos to win,” said Falco. “He was using his wits. I thought I’d be happy seeing him nerfed. Now, I don’t know what to feel. I don’t even know if we accomplished anything—except improve his fighting style.”

“I’d, uh, I think I’d like to fight him sometime,” opined Marth. “I really like this new Luigi. Watching him this afternoon reminded me why I befriended him back in Melee. He’s the most brilliant Smasher I’ve ever known, and maybe I’d like to reach out to him and talk things out.”

“I’d like that, too,” said Kyle. “And I wish I can unsay those mean things about him.”

“So do I,” said Rolf.

“I’m starting to think that he didn’t need a nerf, after all,” said Chase.

“Whoa, whoa!” CH broke in. “Time out!”

Everyone turned and looked at him.

“You shouldn’t forget why we created Project Nerf,” said CH. “You guys hated losing to him! _I_ hated losing to him! We spent all of September airing our grievances at my brother, and he didn’t listen. So, we took matters into our own hands. We got rid of those combos, so it can be easier for us to beat him!”

“CH is right, you guys,” said Stevie. “We all wanted this. We should be celebrating!”

“Did we?” asked Falco.

“We used to think we did, but now, we’re not so sure,” said Theo.

“Don’t forget the amount of money I spent financing this,” said CH.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Rolf wanted to know. “You helped us keep Project Nerf secret, and we thank you for that. But things change, you know? You think you want something, and when you finally get it, you start to realize that you didn’t really want it—or need it—at all.”

Whispers.

“Well,” Chad piped up. “It’s probably not the time for ‘I told you so’, but…”

CH gave him a look.

“Like I said,” shrugged Chad. “It’s not the time.”

The conspirators of Project Nerf stood there, chastened.

Then, Shane broke the silence. “Who wants to party?” he asked.

Gratefully, everyone cheered their assent.

Shane and his brothers kept the wine and other spirits flowing as everyone guzzled on sandwiches, cocktail wieners, pizza and artisan cheeses and crackers. Several partygoers also brought their own food, like spanakopitas (feta and spinach-filled pastries), samosas, chow mein, fried rice, wantons, nachos, quesadillas and burritos. In no time at all, music also began to play. The host encouraged everyone to look around his new house and make themselves comfortable, but discouraged them from perturbing anything without his permission. After eating their fill, men and women found a spacious spot and began dancing and jamming to the music from Shane’s phone.

As for Chad, CH made it a point to keep him within eyeshot and earshot, bringing him along to socialize with others like he was his date. But there was something the Hand of Destruction didn’t know. Chad once aspired to be an inventor and spent his free time tinkering with things. After the “chat” that afternoon, the New England native had put together a device which looked like a pen but was actually an audio recorder. Presently, he was recording everything CH was saying to other party guests, including gloating sessions over Project Nerf and passive-aggressively securing the guests’ promises not to blab about the venture.

When CH’s favorite song came on, he swanned over to Chad. “Care to dance?” he asked, sweeping the young man onto the dance floor without awaiting a reply.

The two cut a striking figure on the dance floor. Activity briefly halted so that the party guests could watch the duo. Chad’s steps perfectly matched his dance partner, while CH gracefully twirled and dipped Chad like a pro. It was actually kinda nice dancing with CH. His large palm was the perfect hiding place, allowing him to glance over the guests he recognized and talk to them with his eyes, picking up the signals, the guilt, the regret, the burgeoning respect for a certain man in green. He was taking CH’s attempt to control him and using it to his advantage.

Chad smirked as he twirled the Hand of Destruction—no easy feat—and picked out Falco from the crowd, both saying the things that needed to be said with a simple glance. He’d chat with the avian later. Right now though, he had a giant glove to dance with. He snaked one arm around Crazy Hand and then pulled him close so that one finger touched Chad’s nose. Someone hooted as the dance became a fiery tango. Crazy Hand blushed like someone’s prom date, but happily followed along. Other couples began to join them on the floor, starting with Marth and Roy and ending with Theo and Vanessa. The temperature went up ten or so degrees as these couples danced sensuously.

“Thanks, man,” said CH as he dipped Chad low. “I needed that.”

Chad smiled. “Don’t mention it,” he replied, slipping a rose between CH’s middle and ring fingers and sauntering away.

“Hey,” said Falco, catching Chad by the arm.

“Hey.”

“You were right about everything. About us being rats jumping from a sinking ship. And by the time I realized it, it was too late. I’m sorry, Chad.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Were you listening to our—talk—this morning?”

“I was. Falco, I know you’re having second thoughts about this venture. Don’t be afraid of them.”

“I’m not afraid of them. It’s just that when we were in that elevator, Luigi didn’t shut me down. He listened. And he didn’t know that he’d be nerfed the next day.”

“I can see it in you. I see it in all of you. You feel guilty after what you saw this afternoon, and you want to confess. What’s holding you back?”

“What’s holding _you_ back?” Falco wanted to know.

“CH is using my involvement as leverage to get me to do what he wants,” said Chad, “but I’m fighting back.”

“The best way to fight back,” said Falco, “is to confess yourself. That way, CH will lose his power over you.”

“I’m just waiting for the right time,” said Chad.

“There’s no time like the present time,” Falco said wisely.

“Tell you what,” said Chad. “We’ll confess together. I confess, you confess. Deal?”

“Deal.”

The two shook on it, and then Chad moved fluidly through the throng of guests, snapping pictures along the way, seeking to put as much distance between himself and CH as he could.

“If only you knew, Chad,” Falco said quietly. “If only you knew.”

Stuart and his date were laughing with a few other guests when Chad approached them.

“Oh, hey!” greeted Stuart, offering his hand. “You must be Chad!”

Chad shook the proffered hand. “Indeed, I am.”

“My bros told me you left for greener pastures,” said Stuart.

“That’s right. And I’m not sorry.”

“Hey,” Stuart said quietly. “It’s nothing to be sorry for, anyway. Looking back on it, I’m happy you left.”

“I hurt Luigi, and I want to make it up to him,” said Chad.

“Me, too. The original plan was to try and get Luigi in trouble, but it backfired, and I got the boot instead. I was angry, yes, but I had time to reflect. And maybe I should powwow with my brothers and tell them that our little vendetta against Luigi is pointless. I even forgot why we hate him so much!”

“By all means, talk to them,” exhorted Chad, “because all you’re doing is hurting yourselves. Project Nerf succeeded, but at what cost? The Smashers involved gave up their integrity, and Master Hand warned them that’s it’s better if they came forward than being found out. The truth will set them free. And hey, if they work hard enough, then they’ll earn Luigi’s forgiveness.”

“Practice what you preach, man,” said Stuart.

“I…” said Chad.

“You’re trying to get us to cop to what we did, and I admire that. But you used to be involved in Project Nerf, nonetheless.”

“Crazy Hand is very dangerous,” said Chad. “He called me the day the patch went live. Told me your brothers are planning something else, and that if I don’t help them—I’ll be at Mario’s mercy. He kept evidence of my involvement. All it’ll take is a phone call for Mario to find out everything.”

“Then,” said Stuart, “you have to tell Mario _and_ Luigi before CH does. I’ll talk to my brothers about the other project they have in the works.”

He patted Chad on the shoulder and left with his date.

_Mario wants the names of those who complained about Luigi_, thought Chad. He’d listened in on the conversation between MH and the man in red earlier that day. Master Hand couldn’t say anything—but Chad could. The question was—how could he tell Mario without anyone else figuring out he was the one who squawked?

Continuing to take pictures and neck with party guests, Chad made his way to a guy named Jeff, who was both a limo driver and a security guard. Jeff was also a member of Mr. Sakurai’s personnel, but had become a good friend of the conspirators.

“Hey,” said Chad.

“Hey,” said Jeff.

“I could use your help,” Chad propositioned with a big smile.

**1.1.1**

CH’s smirk faded when he couldn’t find his “date” anywhere. The drink slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, startling everyone.

“Are you all right, CH?” asked Shane.

“Has anyone seen Chad?” asked the Hand of Destruction.

“I think he just left,” Chase piped up.

“God—mit!” snapped CH, bolting toward the exit.

“Hey, man, if you’re that obsessed with him, why don’t you just marry him?” Vince snarked.

“Not funny, Vince!” barked CH as he dashed out in search of Chad.

Outside Shane’s castle, CH scoured the grounds with no success. Then, he heard the _whirr_ of a Segway and whipped around in time to see Chad and Jeff flying down the road.

“Hey!” screamed CH, giving chase.

Calmly, Chad pulled out a Blue Shell and flung it at his pursuer. It hit CH square on the center of his palm, knocking him onto his back. His fingers wriggled wildly, giving him the appearance of a turtle on its back.

Laughing, Chad flipped CH the bird as Jeff rode him to freedom. “Sucker!” he whooped triumphantly before disappearing from view.

The two men arrived at the Smash Mansion forty-five minutes later. Chad hopped off the Segway and beamed at Jeff. “Thanks, man,” he said. “I owe you one.”

“It’s my pleasure,” said Jeff.

“Are you aware that your boss helped a bunch of entitled brats subvert this tournament?” asked Chad.

Jeff lowered his gaze. “No one else will pay me as well as him.”

“I bet Master Hand will,” said Chad. “I hear he’s hiring people to help around the Smash Mansion.”

“I’ve always wanted to interact with the Smashers,” offered Jeff.

“See? There ya go,” winked Chad. “Think about it.”

Jeff smiled, hopped back onto his Segway and headed for the open road.

Sighing in relief, Chad walked inside the Smash Mansion, took of his blazer, undid his tie and unbuttoned a few buttons on his dress shirt. He wanted to take a shower, put on his pjs and get some sleep for another long day. Yes, that sounded just about right.

As he walked silently down the corridor toward his room, Chad felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned.

“Luigi?” whispered Chad. “How come you’re still awake?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Luigi replied. “Come on.”

Luigi led Chad to his room, steered him to sit on his bed, and closed the door behind him.

“Look, about yesterday…” Chad began.

Luigi silence him with a finger to his lips and pulled out his laptop. “I found something very interesting,” he said. “Wanna know what it is?”

“What did you find?” asked Chad.

Luigi gave the laptop to Chad. The man in green had pulled up a webpage boasting about Koopa’s various ventures. One of them was real estate.

“Why does Koopa have a website, knowing that you or Mario could…?”

Luigi shrugged. “Beats me. But take a look at _this_ one…”

Chad followed Luigi’s finger and bit his lip. “Hm. Okay—so, Koopa was able to sell three pieces of land yesterday.”

“Look at the names, Chad!” Luigi was getting excited. “Look at the names!”

Chad obliged. “Vincent Bennigan, Manny Bennigan, Shane Bennigan. Wait a minute. I heard there was a Stuart Bennigan in Smash, a real troublemaker. Are they…?”

“I don’t know their relation to him yet, but the fact that Koopa was among those railing about my down throw _and_ doing business with these three—they were involved in something, and I’m gonna find out what.”

“What if I told you they _were_?” asked Chad.

Luigi raised an eyebrow.

“This goes back to what I wanted to tell you yesterday. I was frustrated over those combos of yours, and my frustration led me down a dark path. Thank God, I was able to pull myself out of it, but…”

“Why do I feel that I don’t like what I’m about to hear?” asked Luigi.

“I’m so sorry, Luigi. But Koopa and a few other Smashers had a shady business deal with those three, and I know this because—I was involved in it, too.” Chad then steeled himself for the coming storm.

The storm never broke. Instead, Luigi laid a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “You have to tell Master Hand,” he said softly. “Otherwise, he’ll find out on his own, and you’ll be in a lot of trouble. He could kick you out, or worse.”

“Someone else was operating from the shadows,” said Chad. “Someone powerful, and he’s holding my involvement over my head. Your brother’s on the warpath, I can feel it, and this—person—threatened to sic him on me if I don’t give him what he wants.

“Those three…” Chad tapped the laptop screen, “are planning something else. Something involving the Smash Ballot. Operation Ballot Box, or something.”

A look of horror crossed Luigi’s face. “Then you must tell MH now,” he pleaded.

“I can’t. I’m sorry,” Chad said painfully. “I can’t bring your self-esteem back down, I just can’t.”

“You’re not doing anything to my self-esteem,” said Luigi. “I’m starting to recover from the nerf. The only person who’s self-esteem you’re hurting is you. Now, this—Operation Ballot Box…”

“From what this person told me, Daisy’s the target,” confirmed Chad.

“And this business deal—the one you were briefly involved in…”

Chad flinched away from Luigi. “Oh, God…”

“It’s okay. I won’t bite—that hard,” Luigi assured him. “Just tell me the truth. Please.”

“All I can tell you right now is that it had something to do with your nerf. Some Smashers were salty over your combos and railed about it to MH, to each other and online. The Bennigan Brothers only supplied the fuel to the fire. In the near future, I’d like to arrange a meeting with you and Mario in a secure location so I can tell you what you deserve to know.”

Luigi listened intently.

“I know that Mario wants to protect you, which is why he’s pressuring MH to name names. And the shadowy contributor to this mess knows this, too. So, in order to free myself from him, I’m gonna confess first and take whatever beatdown Mario sees fit to dish out.”

“If you confess, then I’m positive that you won’t get a beatdown. Not a severe one, at least,” said Luigi.

“Okay, great. That makes me feel better,” sighed Chad.

“Chad, I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to take the high road and give you a chance instead of just—freaking out. Confess to Mario, and he’ll be a little upset, sure. But if you keep this from him, and he finds out on his own…” Luigi didn’t finish the sentence, nor did he need to. “My bro has questions. You have answers. It really is as simple as that. And since Koopa is involved, I know that the two of us will find a way to make him talk. Chances are, he’ll give you up to save himself. The lesser of two evils is very obvious here.”

“Please, don’t hate me,” entreated Chad.

“I don’t hate you,” said Luigi. “When I read the patch notes, I had a feeling about you, about Koopa, about Falco and about the others throwing hissy fits. But I wonder—who’s this ‘shady contributor’? Is he also a Smasher? Does he work for Nintendo? A powerful person who hates my guts—I think I know who you’re talking about…”

Chad made a face. “Not him, silly! Besides, he knows nothing about these tournaments. But it would’ve been interesting, huh?”

“Yeah, right,” said Luigi, and the two shared a chuckle.

Glancing about the room to make sure nobody was watching, Chad leaned into Luigi’s ear and whispered something. The green plumber sat there, still and silent.

When Chad was finished, he straightened and studied Luigi. “Well, say something,” he said.

“I—had no idea,” he said.

“Me, neither. But now that you know, you can’t clue him in to the fact that I told you.”

“It won’t matter if you talk to Mario,” said Luigi.

Chad scribbled something onto a piece of paper. “Have him meet me at this location in eighteen days’ time,” he said. “On second thought, I want both of you to meet me there. I promise, I’ll tell you everything.”

Luigi drew a long breath. “You were trained in different fighting styles,” he said. “There was no need for you to stoop that low.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say,” said Chad. “I acted like an entitled, whiney, immature jerk, and I hope you and Mario can forgive me.”

“The good thing is that you realized it and bailed before it took you under,” said Luigi, “but why didn’t you say anything then? We could’ve stopped it.”

“No one would’ve believed me,” Chad said forlornly.

“Well, I do.”

Chad smiled wanly. “You’re taking this pretty well.”

“I’m trying to keep an open mind. I just hope Mario does the same. Are you sure you can’t tell us now?”

“Positive. Trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” said Luigi.

He leaned over and hugged Chad, who returned the embrace.

“Oh, Luigi…” breathed Chad.

Seconds later, Luigi dealt out a hard punch to the solar plexus.

“Oof!” grunted Chad.

“That’s for keeping this from me,” Luigi said evenly.

“I admit, I deserve that,” Chad said painfully.

Luigi slammed another fist into Chad’s gut. “That’s for getting involved in this in the first place.”

Chad wheezed.

One final, fierce body shot. “And that’s for sitting around and letting it happen.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” coughed Chad. “I promise.”

Luigi gently kissed the New Englander on the cheek.

“Oh, my,” said Chad.

“That was for being honest with me. A lot of people don’t do that.”

“I’m not ‘a lot of people’,” said Chad. “Good night, L.”

“Good night, Chad.” Luigi helped Chad to the door.

“I’ll probably [bleep] blood tomorrow,” said Chad. Looking deep into Luigi’s eyes, he vowed, “Eighteen days. I’ll sing like Katy Perry. Eighteen days. I swear to you.”

With that note, Chad limped the rest of the way to his room, satisfied that he at least set some of this into motion.


	4. T Plus 3 Days

It was finally starting to come together.

As soon as the day’s matches commenced, Luigi was loaded for bear. He’d start using a defensive stance before setting up with a u-tilt to u-smash and letting it build from there. His detractors sat there, gob smacked, and by and by, they started warming up to him. Stuart joined his three brothers in watching the plumber he used to antagonize, and to say that Luigi took his breath away was putting it too lightly.

Not long into his second match of the day, Luigi decided to try something new. Aggressively closing in on his opponent, Luigi grabbed them, swung them around once before chucking them forward and pelting them with his “sissy-fists” attack.

“Holy [bleep]!” someone interjected.

Luigi’s dash attack was by far one of his weakest, and even he considered it a joke and a defensive move. And here he was, using it out of a forward throw! Who else would’ve thought that?

It was a combo, but a _defensive_ combo, meaning that he’d only use it when a foe was putting too much pressure on him. A weak attack, combined with a strong foe, gave him ample breathing room, and the opponent was so stunned by what just happened that Luigi could easily turn the tide around.

That morning, Luigi’s win-loss ratio had improved, and the pessimists had been given a run for their money. People from far and wide proceeded to jam the stands before the plumber’s bouts, speculator over what he might do next.

They weren’t disappointed.

After a two-day sabbatical, Luigi’s down throw finally returned to competition! As everyone around him watched in anticipation, he dodged an attack, grabbed the opponent, butt-slammed them and followed up with a forward smash, sending them flying. This was one of the new combos Luigi had cooked up in the Training Area, and now that his down throw had been given a rest, he could start trying them out without worry of his reflexes mucking them up! Smashers and Luigi fans alike began texting their friends, telling them to drop what they were doing, get over here and see this! Soon, the spectator area was standing room only. The quiet buzz gave way to silence, so that the man in green could fully focus and concentrate.

But Luigi couldn’t rush through this. Oh, no. He had to hammer these new combos and set-ups in one at a time. Play around with them, experiment. Once, he learned to link his u-tilt to u-smash with a jab-lock and a grab, which could lead into a Ground-Pound to a f-smash and then to a u-air and a short-hop d-air. Slowly but surely, he was climbing back up.

In his usual spot, Mario witnessed his baby bro’s improvements. With every match, he began to let go of his anger toward those who’d called for a nerf—even considering calling it off altogether. Like Luigi said, it didn’t really matter, as long as he was there, cheering him on. Lauren and Peach seemed to sense Mario’s improving mood and were internally relieved. Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory, however, weren’t about to drop their guard just yet. Especially with what had happened in Mario’s bedroom yesterday afternoon.

And as for Chad, he’d slept well for the first time since the new patch. He was on his way to confessing everything to the Mario Bros. And last night, he’d showed CH that he was far from his puppet, and a little beating wouldn’t keep him down for long. He was freeing himself from that glove’s grip, and there was nothing he could do about it.

U-tilt to u-smash. F-throw to dash attack. Down throw to f-smash. Luigi practiced these over and over until they became sort of his Holy Trinity. They’d open door to more complex combos, the combos he used to do, and everyone who’d snickered at him because of his nerf would eat their words. Just the anticipation gave Luigi extra energy that morning. He simply couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces once he was back in top form. No matter what they did, no matter how much they [bleep]-ed and complained, the man in green would climb right back up.

“Oh, my,” Peach said after a while. The doubts and worries in her mind were slowly dispelling. “I think I always knew, all this time…”

Mario laid his hand over hers. “I know,” he said. “I know.”

“I saw him in the Training Room myself that day, and something told me, that after a while…” Peach went on.

“…he’d be ready to dust himself off and try again,” Mario finished, beaming.

“I never lost faith in him,” said Peach. “I never did.”

“None of us did,” Lauren piped up.

“I was upset when I found out about the nerf,” said Charlie, “but now I realize—I didn’t need to be upset over anything.”

Chad said nothing, relieved that what he’d revealed last night didn’t impede Luigi’s progress.

Mario sat there, watching Luigi’s face light up and his eyes spark as his new combos took flight, listening to the familiar rhythm of his breaths. But then—his smile slowly faded as he remembered the broken man sobbing in his arms on the morning of the last day of September. Earlier that morning, Luigi had told him of the cryptic talk he’d had with Chad last night, and how he wanted to meet them at a secret location in seventeen days to talk about a seemingly outlandish plot involving the nerf and the Smash Ballot.

He looked at Chad and could see that the man was remorseful. But if he’d pulled out of the plot, then why hadn’t he just exposed it and saved everyone the trouble of this update patch? It appeared that Mario would have to wait to find out.

Solemnly, Mario looked back out at the battlefield, where Luigi was engaged, breathing heavily, face set and trying his new combos like new clothes, and he said a silent prayer for him…

**1.1.1**

Luigi was feeling great! Now that he’d stopped fuming and moping over the nerf, he’d come to realize the things he _could_ do. All through the morning and into the afternoon, he battled various Smashers on various stages, comforting silence around him as fans and haters alike drank in his new, inventive combos. Time to see what they had to say about him now! Honestly, he couldn’t wait to fight the people he already suspected brought this about, especially Falco. The man in green was still willing to forgive the avian and also willing to give their friendship another shot after Falco was forced to acknowledge what he’d done in the elevator that day. But they couldn’t move forward unless they fought it out one last time. And then it occurred: Falco was among those gazing reverently at him nowadays. Perhaps Luigi’s perseverance made him realize something?

And at lunch, people walked up to him and asked him about the new combos. Luigi smiled and told them that thanks to patience and practice, he was finally able to pull them off after a few shaky days. Then, he continued to wow them after lunch, caught up in a surge of adrenaline as he wiped the remaining smirks off of people’s faces and brought the taunting to a halt once and for all as the sweat slid down his face and his breaths whistled from his lungs. Even when he lost, people gave him a round of applause. And as always, he blushed and then struck a few poses for the cameras.

Much later that afternoon, Luigi was in the Training Area, pounding on a Sandbag, his favorite tunes blasting around him, clad in turquoise overalls and no shirt. The lean plumber was so focused on his beatdown that he didn’t hear the door open. Nor did he hear the footsteps as two certain troublemakers wearing wrestling singlets sidled into the room. It was only when he sensed that he was no longer alone that he stopped.

“What do you want?” he asked, a bit sharply.

“Oh, hey, Luigi,” said Steve. “Stevie and I just want to talk to you about your improved performance as of late.”

“Yeah, it’s improved, no thanks to you,” said Luigi, taking a swig from his bottle of Gatorade.

“I thought you were supposed to be nerfed,” said Stevie.

“I was,” said Luigi.

“Then how come you’re still winning?”

“Because I’m not sulking,” snapped Luigi. “Is that what you and everyone else wailing at Master Hand wanted me to do? Was my nerf an excuse for you all to beat the [bleep] out of me? Was it part of some tricked-out conspiracy to break me? Because if it was, it failed.”

“You know what, Luigi?” Steve asked ominously. “No matter how many people you’ve had slack-jawed today, you’ll always be a loser, and we came here to remind you of that.”

A new song began playing over the stereo—“Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen.

“I’ve heard that so many times that it’s stopped hurting,” Luigi said calmly.

“Oh? Is that so?” asked Stevie as he and Steve began advancing on Luigi. “I guess we need to do something about it. We still haven’t forgiven you for the times you’ve thrashed us, you know.”

Luigi raised an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me?” he asked. “Because I really don’t want to deal with your [bleep] right now.”

“Ooooh,” the two Steves said in unison.

**Don’t stop me now…**

“C’mon, Stevie,” grinned Steve as they stepped closer to the plumber. “We’re not on the battlefield anymore.”

But Luigi didn’t run, no. He stayed where he was, fists raised, waiting.

**Don’t stop me, ’cause I’m havin’ a good time, havin’ a good time…**

Steve and Stevie charged, Luigi dodged their strikes and struck back, harder, faster, dancing fluidly about the room. His antagonists tried to close in on him, but he kept easily fending them off with punches, kicks and aerial attacks, deliberately timing his movements and blows to the beat of the song.

**I'm a shooting star, leaping through the sky**  
Like a tiger defying the laws of gravity  
I'm a racing car, passing by like Lady Godiva  
I'm gonna go, go, go  
There's no stopping me

**I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah**  
Two hundred degrees  
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit  
I'm traveling at the speed of light  
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

**Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time**  
I'm having a ball  
Don't stop me now  
If you wanna have a good time, just give me a call  
Don't stop me now ('cause I'm having a good time)  
Don't stop me now (yes, I'm havin' a good time)  
I don't want to stop at all

**Yeah, I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars**  
On a collision course  
I am a satellite, I'm out of control  
I am a sex machine, ready to reload  
Like an atom bomb about to  
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh explode

**I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah**  
Two hundred degrees  
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit  
I'm traveling at the speed of light  
I wanna make a supersonic woman of you

**Don't stop me, don't stop me**  
Don't stop me, hey, hey, hey  
Don't stop me, don't stop me  
Ooh ooh ooh, I like it  
Don't stop me, don't stop me  
Have a good time, good time  
Don't stop me, don't stop me, ah  
Oh yeah  
Alright

**Oh, I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah**  
Two hundred degrees  
That's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit  
I'm traveling at the speed of light  
I wanna make a supersonic man out of you

**Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time**  
I'm having a ball  
Don't stop me now  
If you wanna have a good time (wooh)  
Just give me a call (alright)  
Don't stop me now ('cause I'm having a good time, yeah yeah)  
Don't stop me now (yes, I'm havin' a good time)  
I don't want to stop at all…

A Cyclone sent the two flying in different directions. Luigi ran toward Steve first, charging himself and landing a Misfire on him. Then, he whirled back on an approaching Stevie, clenched his fist and blasted a Super Jump Punch into the base of his chin.

The plumber stood there, catching his breath, his blood pumping, as the two Steves lay there in pain. “I’m only gonna say this once,” he spat. “Stop. Harassing. Me.”

Satisfied that he’d gotten his point across, Luigi headed back to the Sandbags to resume his workout.

An arm suddenly wrapped around his waist, and before Luigi could do anything, a fist slammed hard into his gut from behind.

“How about ‘no’?” Stevie asked mockingly.

Winded, Luigi crumpled to his knees before sprawling onto his back, and then the two Steves piled on.

**1.1.1**

MH was in his office, hard at work, when Rolf burst in.

“Those f—ing a—holes!” Rolf muttered.

“To whom are you referring, Rolf?” asked MH.

“Steve and Stevie have Luigi cornered in the Training Room,” said Rolf, breathless, his face pale. “They’re hurting him!”

MH rose from his desk. “_What_?” he asked.

“They just attacked him unprovoked!” cried Rolf. “It’s happening right now!”

“My God,” gasped MH.

He quickly summoned a team of Mii security guards, led by Remy, Rory, Timmy and Jimmy.

“What is it, sir?” asked Rory.

“With me!” barked MH, and they all raced toward the Training Area.

**1.1.1**

The Training Room was absolute chaos. Several Smashers were already trying to pull the two Steves away from their target, with little success, along with some visitors. MH, CH and the Mii guards leaped into the fray at once, attempting to defuse the situation before it got too out of hand. The stereo continued to blast fun pop music in this madness, which only added to the horror. People were yelling and shouting frantically. Mario tried to push his way through the crowd, desperately screaming his baby bro’s name, as multiple Miis held him back. Peach, Rosalina, Samus, Zelda, Lucina, Palutena, the Wii Fit Trainer and countless other Smashers did their best to shield any young children present from the violent sight.

Eventually, MH and his team finally stopped this heinous assault and marched the two Steves away as Dr. Mario and a group of paramedics whisked Luigi off to the infirmary. Peach, Mario and their friends followed close behind. The others were left in shell-shocked silence, trying to process what they’d just witnessed and how things had led up to this point.

It didn’t take long for reporters and journalists to arrive on the scene and conduct interviews.

“Through the window—that window over there—I could see those two, punching and kicking him over and over and over,” said a very shaken Rolf.

“I ran in there to pull them off of him with some other people,” said Chad.

“All we could hear was just—_thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud-thud_,” relayed another witness.

“It was, quite frankly, the most sickening experience I’ve had so far as a Smasher,” a Villager piped up.

**1.1.1**

Mario sat in the infirmary’s waiting room, heart pounding, mind whirling. Peach, Charlie, Lauren, Eden, Rosalina and Yoshi did their best to comfort him, but all he could think about was Luigi, laying in a heap on the Training Room floor. He’d failed him—again. He wasn’t there to protect him—again. Seething hatred for the two Steves began to boil in his heart, and he wanted to inflict severe pain on them both. Nobody messed with his bro and got away with it!

Dr. Mario stepped into the waiting room, his clothes rumpled, his face sweaty.

“How is he?” asked Mario.

“He’s going to be okay,” said Dr. Mario. “Actually, he’s healing better than we thought.”

Everyone else sighed in relief.

“I expect him to be back on the battlefield by this time tomorrow,” Dr. Mario went on.

“The power of hate, perhaps?” asked Eden.

“Or those mushrooms he eats,” Charlie piped up.

“I’ll have to go with the latter,” said Dr. Mario. “Once he came around a little, I gave him a Shroom Shake. As for his injuries, there’s a lot of bruising, but nothing’s severely broken or fractured.”

“Can I see him?” asked Mario.

“Sure. Just keep it brief; I want him to rest,” said Dr. Mario.

As Dr. Mario led his counterpart into Luigi’s room, Charlie rose from her seat, deciding to take a walk to clear her head. She’d hardly gone a few paces when she saw Chad approaching.

No words needed to be said. The two ran into each other’s arms and held each other tightly. Chad buried his face into the crook of Charlie’s neck, wondering if now was the best time to tell her the truth about Project Nerf.

**1.1.1**

Mario sat at Luigi’s bedside, eyes dim with pain. The man he’d sworn to keep safe was covered in bruises and dried blood, eyes glazed over.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that you’re here,” Luigi said softly.

“What happened in there?”

“I was minding my own business and getting my cardio in with a Sandbag,” said Luigi. “They walked in and started harassing me. At first, it was verbal, but then it got physical. I was able to fend them off until one of them took a cheap shot at me, and then they just…” He trailed off. “I heard your voice, calling my name, and that hurt worse than their blows.” A tear rolled down his face. “What have I ever done to them, Mario?”

“Nothing. They antagonize you because they enjoy it,” sighed Mario. “Luigi, I’m…”

“Don’t,” Luigi cut him off. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I should’ve been in that Training Room with you,” Mario said, his voice breaking. “I would’ve been able to defend you.”

“Mario, when are you gonna stop blaming yourself for every little thing that happens to me?”

“Well…” Mario trailed off.

“They were targeting me, not you. And like I said, I was holding my own pretty well until they decided to fight dirty. You can’t protect me from everything, Mario. And sometimes, I gotta fight my own battles. You saw that when I saved your life twice. I may be easily frightened sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of myself.”

Mario smiled wanly. “I know _some_ people who can testify to that. Oh, Luigi…”

“Promise me—you’ll let this go,” the lean plumber said suddenly.

“Wha…?”

“I see it all over your face, Big Bro. And whatever you’re thinking of doing to get them back, don’t do it. They’re not worth it. Let MH deal with them. And then I’ll recover and take them on in a Smash Battle, while you watch from the stands and cheer me on.” He smiled. “Maybe you’ll get your chance to face them, too.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” said Mario.

“Just promise me you’ll hold it in until then,” said Luigi. “Promise me, Mario.”

“I—promise,” said Mario. It was a promise he didn’t think he could keep, but at the same time, he wanted his lil’ bro to sleep soundly tonight and heal from his wounds.

Mario stayed with Luigi, talking to him about this and that, until the younger Mario Bro fell asleep.

**1.1.1**

“J—s C—st, do I have to sing it for you?” snapped Master Hand as the two Steves sat sullenly in his office. “What gave you the right to barge in there and attack him?”

“We were just sparring, sir,” said Steve.

“You were just sparring,” repeated MH, “and then you decided to knock him to the floor and beat him to the floor? I don’t buy that story for a second! It has something to do with that nerf, doesn’t it?!”

“Well…” said Stevie.

“I don’t want to hear anymore of your excuses,” said MH. “What you did was wrong, and you know it. The two of you are suspended until further notice, and you are also hereby ordered to apologize to Luigi first thing tomorrow morning. I warned you that I wouldn’t tolerate this behavior.”

“Apologize to him? He was asking for it!” huffed Stevie.

“More of that behavior, and I’ll kick you out of this tournament!” growled MH. Calming down, he continued, “You are dismissed. I want you to spend these next few days thinking about what you did and why you did it.”

Glowering, the two Steves stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind them.

**1.1.1**

“What were you two thinking?!” Vince demanded of the two Steves over the phone. “That was _definitely_ not what we were going for when we planned Project Nerf!”

“We had him nerfed so it would be easier to beat him,” said Stevie.

“In a proper Smash battle, not like this!” cried Vince. “My brothers and I are appalled and p—ed off.”

“Why? Didn’t you want this?” challenged Steve.

“We thought we did, but it turns out, that’s no longer the case,” said Vince.

“You know what your problem is?” asked Steve.

“Oh? What is our problem?” Vince calmly shot back.

“You’ve all gotten soft,” accused Steve.

“Gotten soft? More like gotten smart! These past few days have given us all sorts of doubts regarding our campaign against Luigi. We don’t even remember why we hate him so much. We don’t even think he needed that nerf anymore!”

“Why would you say that?” questioned Stevie.

“Because we didn’t see him fight until now,” said Vince. “I hope you two are happy, because you’ve just painted a target on both your backs. I’m sure Mario would love to hear your explanation on all of this.”

“That fatty comes near us, and he’s toast,” threatened Stevie.

“Yeah, well, that’s what Koopa used to say,” scoffed Vince. “Good night, you two. And I strongly suggest you sleep with one eye open tonight.”

He hung up, leaving the two Steves fuming.

**1.1.1**

Mario was fuming, too, as he snuggled beside Luigi, hearing his quiet, slow breathing as he slept. His head was pillowed on his lil’ bro’s chest, allowing him to feel it methodically rise and fall and hear the drumbeat of his stout heart. A thin trickle of drool issued from the corner of his mouth, which Mario wiped off occasionally. An ugly, purple shine was around both of Luigi’s closed eyes, and he winced slightly in his sleep as he unconsciously agitated a bruise.

But Mario—Mario couldn’t sleep, even as he held Luigi close and gave him all of his deep love. Again, he thought back to the morning of September 30th, when he held a sobbing Luigi in his arms and told him it was going to be okay. He thought back to the people sneering and snickering at his younger brother as he tripped and stumbled through those first matches. And he remembered the frenzy in the Training Room that afternoon, the two Steves dog-piling Luigi and pummeling him viciously as the Smashers and security fought to pull them away, while Mario himself was stuck in the back of the crowd, unable to help his bro. Luigi told him to stop blaming himself and to let MH mete out punishment, but couldn’t he see the difficulty in that?

Giving Luigi a soft kiss on the forehead, Mario made himself comfortable against the lean plumber’s chest. Luigi woke up slightly, smiled at Mario’s presence and snaked his arms around him, completing the embrace. His fingers sifted through his big bro’s chocolate locks, and after about fifteen minutes, Mario’s eyes closed, the comforting contact at last lulling him into a deep sleep.


	5. T Plus 4 Days

Dr. Mario walked in to check on his patient, and what he saw touched his heart. The Mario Bros were cuddled together on the bed, fast asleep, the elder’s head pillowed on the younger’s chest, both plumber entwined in each others’ arms. Mario mumbled about pasta-based dishes while Luigi murmured in Italian, one hand under his bro’s cap and tangling through his hair. His bruises were fading quicker than Dr. Mario expected, and he was certain Mario’s love had something to do with that.

Mario stirred awake as his counterpart approached the bed, clipboard in hand.

“Hm?” he uttered.

“Hey, Mario,” said Dr. Mario. “I’m gonna have to ask you to scoot, okay? It’s time to check Luigi’s vitals.”

Mario huffed out a breath and kissed Luigi on the cheek before diligently sliding out of the bed and stretching. “I need to get warmed up, anyway,” he said as he slid his feet into his boots.

Luigi awoke then, sitting up and adjusting his cap, glazed over eyes surveying the scene.

“Morning, L,” greeted Dr. Mario. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” replied Luigi.

The doctor then went down to business, getting his supplies ready. “You should be able to resume fighting matches later today, but I still have to measure your vitals.”

“Okeydokey,” said Luigi.

His eyes met Mario’s, and he nodded. “I’ll be fine. Good luck with your match-ups today,” he said.

Mario gave Luigi a thumbs-up before taking his leave.

Dr. Mario moved quickly and efficiently, checking Luigi’s heart, lungs, vision, coordination and blood pressure. “Your readings look fine,” he said, slightly surprised. “You’ve made a swift recovery. I’ll get you some breakfast, and then I’ll prepare the discharge papers.”

“Great. Thanks,” said Luigi.

“Hey.”

Doctor and patient turned. Standing there was a woman with auburn hair and a yellow dress, holding a flower bouquet.

“Daisy,” said Luigi.

His paramour smiled. “I got here as fast as I could,” she said, approaching his bedside. “Thank God you’re okay.”

“Oh, Daisy—seeing you always makes me feel better,” said Luigi.

Daisy sat on the edge of the bed and kissed Luigi. He took her in his arms, and they kissed again and again until Dr. Mario cleared his throat.

“We don’t want to get him too excited, Your Highness,” cautioned Dr. Mario.

“Oh, right. My apologies,” said Daisy.

“Now, L, I want you to take it easy today,” the doctor went on. “If you feel any discomfort, notify Master Hand immediately. Try to eat a few extra Mushrooms, as well. And don’t worry about those two troublemakers. They’ll get what’s coming to them soon enough.”

“I sure hope so,” said Luigi.

Two of Daisy’s guards walked in, bearing a large dish on a tray. They set it on Luigi’s lap, and one of them removed the cover to reveal an egg and pancake breakfast.

“Wow,” mused Luigi.

“Our compliments,” said the guards before they withdrew.

“Okay,” Dr. Mario said slowly. “I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can.” With that, he left Luigi and Daisy to their privacy.

The couple fed each other forkfuls of the breakfast. By the time Dr. Mario returned, the plate was clean, and the two were reading a magazine together.

“Okeydokey, here’s the paperwork,” said the doctor.

Daisy slid off the bed as Luigi signed his discharge papers. “I’m gonna watch you on TV later!” she chirped.

“I appreciate that,” said Luigi. “I’m happy you could stop by.”

“When I heard about what happened…” said Daisy.

“Never fear,” said Luigi. “I’ll get them back on the battlefield.”

“I’ll patiently await that day,” said Daisy.

The two shared one last passionate kiss before Daisy skipped away.

“You have a lot of people in your corner, L,” said Dr. Mario. “You shouldn’t count that out.”

On those words, he stepped out so Luigi could change back into his regular clothes.

**1.1.1**

“Oh, my God!” was the first thing Chad said when he saw Luigi. “I was just on my way to visit you! Are you all right?”

“Never better,” replied Luigi.

“Why did they attack you like that?” asked Chad.

Luigi shrugged. “With me, they don’t need a reason,” he said. “I guess they were upset because I wasn’t sulking, like they wanted me to.”

“I’m so sorry, Luigi,” sighed Chad. “I should’ve been there, I could’ve…”

“Now you sound like Mario,” said Luigi.

“How’s he taking it?”

“The usual way,” said Luigi.

“Look—I just wanna make things up to you,” sighed Chad. “I’m making you wait almost two weeks for me to tell you what you want to know, and the knowledge that I was part of it, however briefly…”

“About that—I’m sorry I gut-punched you,” said Luigi. “What you did was wrong, but I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“You were entitled to a few shots at me,” said Chad.

“I still wish you’d said something before the storm broke,” added Luigi.

“Would you have believed me?” asked Chad.

“Judging by the tantrums in MH’s office—yes.”

Chad sighed. “I really f—ed things up, but I’m gonna make it right.”

“I believe you,” said Luigi, clapping Chad on the shoulder. “See you round.”

Chad watched him go, thinking about one person he hadn’t confessed to yet—Charlie.

**1.1.1**

All throughout the morning, the mood throughout the Smash Mansion was subdued. For some, the memory of the two Steves’ behavior was fresh in their minds. For the rest, they held their breath, wondering what Luigi—or Mario—would do next.

But both brothers held it in. For the most part, there were no signs of an impending storm. Luigi, as always, released his aggression during his bouts, and Mario drew strength from spectating. He didn’t see a single bruise on his skin—the swelling and lacerations and other wounds had disappeared virtually overnight. He was sparkly and flushed and sweaty and hot and not about to be a victim! Every so often, he’d pull out the new combos—the up tilt to up smash, the forward throw to sissy-fists, the down throw to f-smash. Along with something new—down throw to Cyclone. He’d find different ways to string those four pieces together, with aerials mixed in to maintain the element of surprise. And from that, he crafted a fifth piece—down throw to up smash. He’d precede the butt slam with a few pummels, too, but he was showing them. His down throw was still a useful combo tool. It wasn’t as useful as it was before, but it was useful.

He saw the two Steves sitting there, fuming, knowing that he’d recovered from their little stunt and that there was nothing they could do about it. The sight of them caused cold anger to well up inside of him, but he swallowed it back, increasing the ferocity in his strikes and giving the morning’s opponents little to no time to anticipate his next move.

As for Mario, he was calm and collected on the outside, but there was a slow burn on the inside. Luigi’s swift recovery was cold comfort knowing that he had to be around his attackers every hour of the day. Eating in the cafeteria with them, sitting in the stands near them, and once their suspension was lifted, they’d probably do it again. They’d put on a big show about how sorry they were to appease Master Hand and keep finding more ways to antagonize the man in green. But Mario wouldn’t have any of that.

He remembered their fists rising and falling again and again, the sound of the hits falling—the chaos as bystanders tried to save Luigi. He couldn’t help but think that if he’d showed up a few minutes earlier, the two of them would’ve beaten back the two Steves together. But he wasn’t there, and his little brother had gotten hurt because of it.

But his manner remained polite as always, speaking in a soft, reassuring tone and sporting a disarming facial expression. Peach and Lauren, however, weren’t fooled. They saw the waves and waves of heat pouring off his body and prayed to God, high and unseen in Heaven. Not just for God to give Mario the resolve he needed to stay in control, but for Steve, Stevie and everyone else to reap what they’d sown. To let enough be enough.

The morning and most of the afternoon passed by without incident, and it was a sunny October day. But it was the quiet before the storm…

**1.1.1**

Luigi was relaxing after a particularly intense bout when he heard footsteps and three familiar voices talking among themselves.

Ethan was the first to appear. “Hey, L!” he called. “Anna and I are gonna play some Smash Bros. Wanna join us?”

Chuckling, Luigi rose to join him. “Ethan, you had me at ‘Smash Bros’,” he said.

It wasn’t long before Anna, Ethan and Luigi were seated cross-legged in front of a Wii U console, embroiled in a three-way Smash battle as Vanessa watched vigilantly. Ethan played as Mario, Anna played as Pikachu and Luigi played as himself. Fingers flicked over or mashed controllers as they manipulated their chosen fighters about the stage, pounding away at the first opponent they saw. Ethan couldn’t believe he was actually playing a friendly game against Luigi and having fun. He used to hate facing a Luigi player, but those days were behind him. He, along with Anna, laughed delightedly as they traded “blows” with Luigi, winning some matches and losing them. Sometime after the fourth or fifth round, Vanessa gave into temptation and joined the fray, testing her Peach against a real-life Smasher.

Hours later, the four of them set up a Team Battle, Vanessa and Anna against Luigi and Ethan. The girls ended up winning most of those rounds, and they all decided to rest their hands.

“Wow, Ethan, you’re really good,” said Luigi.

“And so are you,” said Ethan. “Do you practice often?”

“As often as I can. And you?”

“I—yes. More than I used to. Luigi, I—I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I used to—dislike you. My classmates bullied me because I couldn’t win against Luigi players, and I took it out on you. And when you won over…”

“You really hurt him,” said Luigi.

“I already apologized to him and—I heard about what happened yesterday. As much as I struggled against your playstyle, I’d never wish something like that on you.”

“My bro’s a bit hot right now, but once he cools off—would you like to try apologizing to him again?” asked Luigi.

Ethan bit his lip. “Sure,” he said finally.

“If you’re more sincere, then he’s more likely to forgive you,” said Luigi.

“There’s something else,” said Ethan. “Something else I did—something very immature and dishonest.” He breathed shakily. “I’m responsible—for you getting nerfed.”

Vanessa walked over and rested both hands on her son’s shoulders. “We both are, along with his dad,” she joined in.

“Chad Wrainwright—do you know him?”

Vanessa shook her head. “We know _of_ him. I guess he quit before we joined. Why? Did he participate, as well? Did he tell you about us?”

“He wants Mario and I to meet with him in about two weeks so he can tell us everything,” said Luigi. “If you know anything about this, or if you were a part of it, then please, tell me, and atone for your actions.”

“Uh—okay. The idea was floating around that you needed a nerf, so every night in September, we met in secret locations to discuss convincing Master Hand and a few higher-ups to do that,” said Vanessa. “We had no idea of us until Falco approached my son.”

“Falco was part of this?”

“Yes,” said Ethan. “He was very nice. And after your fight against Mario, I was so angry that I joined the venture that same night.”

“I didn’t join in to hurt you,” said Vanessa. “I thought I was helping my son. His peers were really giving him a hard time, and he needed an outlet for that frustration. It got so bad that he snapped, got into a fight and wound up suspended from school. And then we got Mr. Sakurai’s attention on the matter and arranged a meeting between him and Master Hand. You know the rest.”

“So—that’s why you and Steve were snooping around MH’s office,” said Luigi.

Vanessa nodded. “We had a benefactor, a powerful benefactor, and I don’t know what he’ll do to us if we talk.”

“Chad told me about him. Mario and I will protect you if you’re completely forthcoming. Can you do that for us?”

“Yes,” Vanessa and Ethan said in unison.

“I’d like you all, along with Theo, to accompany Chad to our little meeting,” Luigi instructed after a while. “Bring as much evidence as you can.”

“Our benefactor had us destroy it, but I kept copies of it on a flash drive, just in case,” said Vanessa.

“Good going,” said Luigi. “And—if you know anyone else who was involved, could you—bring them along, too?”

“Sure,” said Vanessa. “I, uh, we really must be going. Sorry to spring this on you.”

“That’s okay. Thank you for your honesty,” said Luigi. “Just remember what I said about apologizing to Mario.”

Ethan nodded. “I guess—we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“I’d like that,” Luigi said softly.

“Even after what we told you?”

“You were manipulated by a gang of salty bullies who didn’t want to buckle down and practice. I don’t hold this against you.”

Relieved, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna said their goodbyes and headed home, leaving Luigi to digest this newest intel.

**1.1.1**

Mario had decided to take a walk, enjoying the crisp autumn air, to clear his thoughts. His earbuds were in, plugged into his phone, as he strode along the pathway, humming along to the song. The trees were shrouded in shades of amber this time of year, a leaf or two floating downward every so often. These falling leaves lightly brushed his face and came to rest just inside his overalls; he pluck them out and stare at them for a bit before letting them go. More leaves would stick to his shirt or balance themselves atop his hat, or crunch beneath his boots. Later in the season, he and Luigi would make a giant leaf pile and then jump in it, rolling around in the leaves, just like they used to. The thought caused a peal of laughter to burst from his lips, lightening his mood—for a while.

Halfway through his walk, all of that changed.

Mario had taken off his headphones and was currently enjoying the sounds of the wind in the trees, of birds as they prepared for their migration. He paused at an area surrounded by trees and sat against one, leaning back and closing his eyes, beginning a meditation the Wii Fit Trainer taught him. He’d finished the meditation and was beginning a second one when he heard it.

Laughter.

Frowning, Mario stood up and went to investigate. That was when he saw the two Steves sitting on a picnic bench, sharing Burger King food and laughing about something. Quietly, the man in red crept closer so he could better hear their conversation.

“Hey, didn’t you just love the sound he made when I gave him a hefty one to the stomach?” asked Stevie.

“Oh, yeah!” crowed Steve. “Good move, my friend. He thought he had us on the ropes. And then _boom_!”

Both Steves imitated the gasp Luigi had made as he sank to the Training Room floor.

“He had it coming, and I don’t care what anyone says!” laughed Steve. “Say—how many licks did you get in?”

Stevie guffawed. “I punched the [bleep] out of his handsome face and then I kicked him over and over—and then I punched him some more. How about you?”

“I pretty much smashed him into paste! You should’ve seen him by the time I finished! That plumber was bleeding a mess all over himself—I gave him a nice shiner, too! I think I also broke something, or at least I hope I did!”

“Hey, me, too!”

And they both laughed.

“You know what I enjoyed the most?” asked Stevie. “The look in his eyes when it clicked that he couldn’t take on both of us, and that nobody was coming to save him.” He giggled.

“Not as enjoyable as the little whimpers we managed to get from him!” chortled Steve. “And the way he started curling up into a miserable little ball to try and get away from us—oh, baby!”

They laughed even harder.

“Too bad we got suspended over it,” snorted Steve. “I wish he was here right now, so we can both give him second helpings. He deserves it, and that’s the honest-to-God truth.”

“Yeah, maybe next time he’ll think before he—oh, hey, Mario!” Stevie’s demeanor instantly did a 180 the moment he saw the red-clad plumber. “How’s your day been?”

“Hm. Can’t complain,” Mario said casually. “How about yours?”

“Better than we expected, being suspended and all,” said Stevie. “We have another sandwich in here if you’re hungry. It’s still pretty warm.”

“I’m not really in the mood for burgers today,” said Mario.

“It’s a chicken sandwich,” said Steve.

“Chicken sandwich, huh? Well, don’t mind if I do,” said Mario.

“All right, that’s what I’m talking about!” crowed Steve as he reached into the bag and pulled out the sandwich, handing it to Mario.

Carefully, the portly plumber unwrapped the chicken sandwich and took a nice, big bite. “Hm. This _is_ a tasty sandwich.”

“Well, yeah. It’s Burger King,” said Stevie.

“Nothing like a little fast food to celebrate your recent achievements,” Mario said pointedly, taking one of the sodas the two Steves hadn’t yet gotten around to drinking and knocking it back.

“Oh, yeah—that hit the spot,” said Mario.

Microseconds later, he crammed the chicken sandwich into Steve’s face. Steve spluttered and clawed at his visage, attempting to clear away the bun, meat and condiments obstructing his vision.

“Oh, my God!” was all Stevie had time to say before Mario hurled the soda into his face.

Stevie screamed. “What the Hell?!” he roared.

“Did you like that?” asked Mario. “Did you?!”

He stepped forward and threw a vicious punch at Steve, sending him to the floor. Steve tried to sit up, blood dribbling from his mouth, but Mario coldly straddled him and drove his fist into his face over and over, his anger finally rising to the surface.

“Was this what you did to my brother?!” screamed Mario, face twisted in hatred. “It doesn’t feel so good now, does it?!”

“Why, you little…!” Stevie tried to yank Mario away, only for the little man to turn his attention on him, doubling him over with a kick to the stomach and pelting him with more kicks and he lay writhing in pain.

“Stupid plumber!” hissed Steve. “We should’ve made you watch us break your dear brother’s face!”

That sent Mario completely over the edge. He proceeded to violently beat them both, landing blows and kicks wherever he saw an opening—just like they did to Luigi. The rest of the white-hot anger he’d kept inside for days—since Falco’s tirade, even—began to snap loose, casting his vision in a red filter. He knew or didn’t think about anything else. The only thing he could see was his little brother, bloodied and nearly broken, on the Training Room floor. The only thing he could hear was Luigi’s quiet sobs when he found out he was being nerfed. The only thing he could remember was Luigi struggling to hold on and put on a happy face. He wanted the monsters who did this to him to pay, starting with Steve and Stevie. A dull roar was in his ears, and he was flushed and hot and pushed as far as a human being could go.

He didn’t remember the strong arms restraining him. He didn’t remember Remy and Rory marching him toward Master Hand’s office. What he _did_ remember was that he was crying now, crying so hard that he could barely breathe.

**1.1.1**

“Do you understand the can of worms you just opened, Mario?” asked Master Hand. “Those two are gonna have a ball playing the victim card! And exactly what in God’s name made you think you had the right to attack them like that?”

“They were gloating about what they did to Luigi!” hiccupped Mario. “I couldn’t just stand there and let them do that!”

“What they did yesterday was abominable,” agreed MH, “but I’d already punished them. What were you doing there, anyway?”

“I was going for a walk to clear my head when I heard them laughing about something,” explained Mario. “As I got closer, I was able to find out what. I just—lost it.”

“Mario Jumpman, I’m astonished at you. I know how much your brother means to you, and that you want to defend him. But a line has been crossed, and acts of vengeance won’t be tolerated in this tournament. You are suspended for two weeks.”

“What? Are you serious?!” gasped Mario. “I’m not the bad guy!”

“You could’ve just walked away,” MH said evenly.

“Walked away? I failed Luigi twice before, and I wasn’t about to fail him again!” Mario said hotly. “I just—I didn’t—I didn’t know what I was thinking.”

“No, Mario. You weren’t thinking at all,” huffed MH. “You don’t think. You _never_ think. You always have to be the hero all the d—n time and save the day.”

Mario blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Could you for once in your life just stop for a moment before skipping off on your next adventure?” MH went on. “Maybe that’s why you got stuck in that painting—it’s because you don’t think! ‘Oh, look—my bro suddenly won a mansion; nothing suspicious about that!’ And Luigi has to come in and risk his life to bail you out and save your sorry [bleep] from the mess _you_ made!”

Mario’s fists clenched. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing!

“You know perfectly well that it wasn’t like that,” he said.

“Oh? Then what was it like?” challenged MH. “You get a little cake in you and you think you’re invincible and impervious, and the consequences don’t matter to you, is that what it’s like? Or do you just think Peach is attracted to impulsive men?”

Mario’s mouth flew open.

“You could’ve walked away, but you just wanted an excuse to treat those two like the bad guys so you could be the hero. You’re always the hero, and everyone else is the villain, and anyone who suggests otherwise can drop dead. Well, guess what, buddy? Those days have come to an end! You’re on _my_ turf, Mario, so you’d better start following _my_ rules!”

“Oh—so all of this is _my _fault?!” snapped Mario.

“You bet your [bleep] it is! It’s your fault you got stuck in that portrait and subjected your brother to that trauma, your fault he got brainwashed back in ’07, your fault he had that Negative Zone in Brawl! And if those two Steves decide to go after your brother in revenge after they recover, then that’s gonna be on you, too! This is all your fault—all of it! I’ve got better things to do with my time than sit around trying to clean up _your_ mess! If you took a second to actually _be_ Nintendo’s mascot and Smash’s unofficial spokesperson, then I wouldn’t have to do it myself!”

“You S.O.B,” Mario said tightly.

Snatching up a paperweight, he hurled it at MH, who dodged out of the way just in time.

“How dare you bring that stuff up?!” yelled Mario. “How dare you insinuate that it was _my_ fault?! Do you know how many nights I’ve spent wide awake, _kicking_ myself for not paying attention to Luigi’s concerns?! Did you actually believe I _intended_ to traumatize Luigi when I ventured through the forest that night?! I was _guilt-ridden_—I still am! Not a day goes by when I think about what could’ve happened to him and how I could’ve been responsible! And another thing—what makes you so much God—m better than me?! What do you do? You invite people to beat each other up, and you advertise it for entertainment. Oh, that’s wonderful, Master Hand. A real contribution to human history.”

“Mario…” MH spoke in a softer tone, reaching for the plumber.

Mario flinched backward, fist raised. “Don’t. F—ing. Touch. Me.” He hissed, tears rolling down his face. “I can’t believe you brought that up. I can’t believe you actually said those things to me. All this time, I defended you. I honestly thought you had our best interests at heart. But now, I don’t even know who you are anymore. See, the MH I know wouldn’t have _dreamed_ of going off on me like you just did. You want me to do _my_ job, huh? What kind of a job do you think _you’re_ doing now?!”

“Now, you’re out of line, Jumpman!”

“No, _you’re_ out of line! What gave you the authority to throw that junk in my face—just when I was about to recover from it?! Why can’t you see that I did what I did for my bro?!”

“Regardless, you still broke the rules, and you’re being punished for it,” MH said firmly. “I want you to retire to your room and spend these upcoming two weeks thinking about what you did and why you did it. You’ll still be allowed to spectate others’ matches and use the Training Room, gym facilities, the pool and the Lounge Area—but you’re barred from fighting in any kind of matches, Multi-Man Smash and Smash Run. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master Hand,” replied Mario without even looking at the glove.

“You are dismissed.”

Mario stomped out of the office, slamming the door after him, and stormed straight to his room, slamming that door as well.

**1.1.1**

Later that night, Master Hand remained in his office, shaken to the core over his tirade at Mario. What in God’s name made him lash out like that? One moment, he was calling the plumber out on his rash decision, and the next, he was railing at him over—he remembered what he’d said, and it made him feel queasy. He made several valid points, but the rest of his diatribe was uncalled for. The Hand of Creation promised himself that he’d apologize to the man in red once he’d calmed down.

_What if he told Luigi about it?_ MH thought. Luigi was shy, awkward and an all-around nice guy, but let someone threaten, harm or upset his brother—MH didn’t even finish the thought as he contemplated how he’d explain himself to the man in green. He hoped he’d understand that Mario attacked two people unprovoked, and even if his intentions were chivalrous, it went against decorum. It was these mitigating circumstances that had propelled MH to give Mario only a two-week suspension.

Jimmy and Timmy walked into the office. 

“Are you alright, MH?” asked Jimmy.

“We heard that you and Mario had a fight,” added Timmy.

“I’m trying to figure out what set me off,” said MH. “I blamed him for what happened in 2001 and 2007, as well as Luigi’s first Final Smash.”

“Maybe you’re just under stress,” offered Timmy.

“That’s no excuse, just as Mario had no excuse to go after Stevie and Steve,” said MH.

“What happens to Mario?” Jimmy wanted to know.

“I suspended him for two weeks,” replied MH.

“Hm. I hope he learns something from this,” said Timmy.

“Me, too,” said Jimmy. “Do you need anything, MH?”

“I could use a cup of tea right n…” Suddenly, MH doubled over and convulsed. Timmy and Jimmy watched in horror as the giant glove threw up something black.

“Holy mother of God!” shouted Timmy as the black—thing writhed on the floor.

He and Jimmy sprang into action, slamming a jar over the black—thing.

“Where did that come from?” Jimmy asked.

MH pulled himself back up. “Put that in a secure area,” he commanded, “and get me that tea, posthaste.”

Shaken, the two Miis obliged, leaving MH sitting there, just as shaken.

“J—s,” he said.

**1.1.1**

Mario was also awake, nursing a glass of wine, eyes red, nose runny and face sticky with tears. He still couldn’t believe how MH tore into him and threw events he almost gained closure over in his face. What had he done to deserve that? Rough up two guys who deserved it? Taking another gulp of wine, Mario thought back to the day the patch went live, when he felt like he’d let his brother down. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt like a bad brother. The first time was when he’d found himself in the clutches of a madman worse than Koopa, banging in futility on the invisible wall of his artistic prison, knowing that this madman wanted Luigi’s blood and there was nothing he could do to help. The second time was when that deranged jester turned Luigi into a monster using his hidden envy and resentment. And the third time was when he discovered the sources that powered the nightmarish Negative Zone in Brawl.

“Maybe he’s right,” he murmured to himself. “Maybe my drive for adventure put Luigi in these situations. He had to face down his worst fears because of me—twice. And the second time, I couldn’t even move. It’s all my fault. All of it…”

He drained his glass and refilled it.

“That stupid glove. After everything I’ve done for him,” he continued, a sob choking him. “I’ve never really trusted him, but now I _hate_ him! And I swear I’ll make him pay for this!”

He jumped at the angry knocking on his door and immediately knew who it was before he heard the voice.

“Mario!” called Luigi.

“D—mit, L, I got it from Master Hand, I most certainly _don’t_ need it from you!” he called back.

“Well, you’re getting it whether you like it or not,” snapped Luigi. “Now open the d—n door.”

Cursing under his breath, Mario set down his glass, crossed the room to the door and opened it.

Luigi stood there, his eyes searching Mario’s before beginning to speak in a calm, steady voice.

“The news is everywhere—that you went off on the two Steves this afternoon. Is that true?”

“Luigi, I was minding my own business, and then I came upon them talking about what they did to you. They were remorseless and celebrating it, and then…”

Luigi understood instantly. “_Dio_,” he gasped.

“What do you mean? They deserved it, didn’t they? They put you in the hospital.”

“You promised me,” said Luigi. “You promised me you’d let this go. You stood there in my hospital room and promised me.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know if I could keep that promise,” said Mario.

“So—you just said what I wanted to hear.”

“Wha—no! Luigi, I tried to keep the promise. God knows I tried. But hearing them gloat and joke and laugh about it…”

“How did MH react?” asked Luigi.

“He suspended me,” huffed Mario. “Two weeks.”

“Mario, how can you support me through this if you’re in trouble?” Luigi wanted to know. “I need you by my side. And if you’re suspended…”

“I’m still allowed to spectate.”

“That’s not the point, Mario. Think about Peach. Think about your fans. Think about the other Toads. What kind of example were you setting for them when you attacked those two?”

“What kind of example were _you_ setting when you burst out crying over a nerf?!” The words spilled out before he could stop them. He was just so angry and irritated and wanted to be alone.

Luigi’s sole response was an arched eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?” he asked softly.

“You’re a grown man, Luigi. You shouldn’t need me to hold your hand anymore,” huffed Mario.

“That wasn’t the attitude you showed me when I told you about Falco,” said Luigi.

Mario looked at his feet, grumbling something.

“Is—something wrong, Mario? Did something else happen between you and Master Hand? Why are you acting like this?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of always cleaning up your mess,” Mario said simply.

“_My_ mess?” Luigi’s tone all-but screamed “Tread carefully, Big Bro”, and it pulled Mario slightly out of his funk, as he chose his next words cautiously.

“I mean, every time someone hurts your feelings or takes a crack at you or _whatever_, you always come running to me,” shrugged Mario. “I wish you’d realize that I won’t be around to bail you out all the time. I’ve got other duties to perform besides acting as your bodyguard and crutch.”

“And what makes you think I need a bodyguard?” Luigi asked crisply, his tone so _calm_ and _collected_.

“Everybody’s ganging up on you, and you treat it as some sort of war crime,” said Mario. “And then, you’re ranting and raving about how you never get enough credit and that you should get a 21-gun salute each time you walk across the street. So, I have to carry you around on my shoulders and chase away the people giving you problems and patch up your wounds—like someone’s…”

“Like someone’s what, Mario?” Luigi asked, daring Mario to complete the sentence.

“There’s already one person in my life who needs rescuing, and I don’t feel like dealing with two.”

“Mario—I didn’t ask you to go over there and beat the two Steves to a bloody pulp,” Luigi said evenly. “All you could’ve done was ignore them. Why didn’t you ignore them and walk away?”

“In your eyes, everyone who lays hands on you is a villain. Do the math.”

“We talked about this in the hospital. I could’ve handled them.”

“And just _how_ were you gonna do that? Sit around and cry until someone listened?”

“Wow. You must really think that’s all I do, even though you’ve seen otherwise,” Luigi said flatly.

“Yeah? I bet if _I_ wasn’t there, you’d run away.”

Time froze.

As soon as the words left his mouth, Mario wished he could take them back. Luigi’s eyes flashed, and his mouth was a dangerously taut line as his jaw clenched. The elder bro expected shock, hurt and disbelief, followed by a brief storm that would end in tears. What he got was slightly different.

Inwardly, Mario braced himself for a well-deserved punch. Instead, Luigi yanked his cap over his eyes, stretched his overall straps before snapping them back and then did the same to his moustache.

“Oof!” he grunted as he pushed his cap back up and readjusted his stache. “I hate it when you do that!”

“MH must’ve said something to set you off, and believe me, I’m gonna find out what,” Luigi said, his manner remaining composed. “In the meantime, I think what you need is to turn in for the night. And when you wake up tomorrow morning, I expect a better mood. Whatever’s going on with you, you have no reason and no right to take it out on me.”

“C’mon, L! I didn’t mean—see, _this _is what I’m talking about! Someone says something mean to you, and then you act like they broke a few hundred laws and demand that they be punished!” Mario railed in frustration as Luigi turned and marched toward his own room. “All right then, go ahead. Trudge to your room and mope. It’s what you do best.”

Luigi gave him the finger and kept walking.

“D—mit!” Mario flopped back onto his bed and began crying in earnest. _Me and my big mouth!_ Leave it to him to make things worse. He was a screw-up. He always was a screw up and he’d always be a screw-up. Luigi would probably never speak to him again, and it was all on him.

_Where did it all go wrong?_

In his own room, Luigi poured himself a frosted-over glass of sweet wine, reeling over the worst tiff he’d had with Mario in—years.

And he, too, began to cry, softly and silently.


	6. T Plus 5 Days

Koopa stood at the Smashville Train Depot, flanked by a small contingent of his foot soldiers. The heat shimmered around him, coming in waves off the railroad tracks. Off to one side waited a group of Gerudo bodyguards, but Koopa paid them no mind. In his arms, he cradled a handful of gifts, gifts he’d purchased well in advance and neatly wrapped in wrapping paper, along with two flower bouquets. The giant turtle took a deep breath and once again scoured the train tracks.

Suddenly, he saw the small light in the distance, hearing the faint blast of a train horn shortly thereafter. The train was approaching. The child within him wanted to clap his hands in joy, but instead, he regally stood and watched as the front engines of the train materialized, followed by the rest of it. The Gerudo bodyguards began beating out a rhythm on the drums they’d brought with them. Koopa shook out his legs, just then noticing that Link and Zelda were at the depot, as well. That was odd, considering…

He turned back around as the train pulled into the depot, bringing with it a slight breeze which blew his hair back. The train then slowed and came to a stop, and Koopa smiled.

A train attendant opened the door and helped the mighty Gerudo King onto the platform. Ganondorf looked up, and his face broke into a grin when he saw Koopa.

“Hey, look who it is!” he cried jovially as he strode toward his fellow video game villain.

“Come here, Dorf!” laughed Koopa, and the two of them shared a hug.

“How’ve you been, man?” asked Ganondorf.

“Better,” beamed Koopa. “I’ve got something for you.” He gave Dorf one of the bouquets.

“Flowers for me? I missed you too, pal,” chuckled Dorf.

“Hey! Do I get flowers, too?”

They turned as Wario approached them.

“Of course you do, Wario!” laughed Koopa as he relinquished the second bouquet.

“Oh, yeah! Wario time!” laughed Wario as he jumped into Koopa’s arms.

“You two missed so much!” gushed Koopa. “I can’t wait to tell you all about it!”

“And we can’t wait to hear about it,” said Dorf.

The bearer of the Triforce of Power turned as his two fellow Triforce bearers approached him.

“Welcome home, Dorf,” Zelda said softly, giving him her own flower bouquet.

“Aw, thanks, Zel,” said Dorf, kissing the wise princess on the cheek.

Koopa huffed, but it was good-natured. “Why can’t Peach do that with me?” he asked.

“I keep an open mind,” Zelda said smartly.

Dorf and Link shared a fist bump, then the former looked deep into the Hero of Time’s eyes. “Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long-lost archenemy?”

“Tears of joy,” said Link. “I was getting a little bored.”

“Yes, well,” smirked Dorf. “Vacation time’s over.”

“Let’s grab something to eat,” said Koopa. “It’s on me.”

“Okay,” said Wario.

“Great idea,” said Dorf. Waving to Zelda and Link, he said, “See you two on the battlefield!”

“We’re looking forward to it!” the two called after him.

**1.1.1**

“First things first,” said Koopa once they got situated at a café. “Guess who we won’t have to put up with on the battlefield for these next 2 weeks?”

“Who?” asked Dorf.

“My beloved nemesis,” grinned Koopa.

“Mario? No way!” gasped Dorf.

“What did Mr. Perfect do?” Wario wanted to know.

“He beat up the two people who beat up his brother,” explained Koopa.

Wario snorted. “Figures.”

“While we’re speaking about Green ’St—Luigi, remember those combos we just couldn’t get past?”

“What about them?” asked Wario.

“They’re gone!” chirped Koopa. “A few Smashers and I joined with three brothers and the tournament’s financier to sweet talk Master Hand into nerfing Luigi’s down throw!”

“Excellent!” chuckled Wario.

“Dorf—you don’t seem surprised,” said Koopa.

“I wanted to attend the meetings, but—I didn’t want Link and Zel on the case. They’re two of Luigi’s good friends,” said Dorf.

“So—you contributed in secret,” smiled Koopa. “Somehow, I knew you would.”

“I also made a few phone calls and wrote a few letters,” Dorf smiled back.

“You knew the Bennigan Brothers, then?” asked Koopa.

“I wish I could’ve met them in person,” sighed Dorf.

“Never fear—you’ll get your chance tonight,” said Koopa. “I’m holding a big slumber party at my castle.”

Dorf smiled. “Perhaps I could ask Zel to be my date?”

“That would be fun, but too risky,” said Koopa. “The last thing we need is two heroes sniffing after us.”

“Does Mario know anything?”

“He suspects something. I can feel it. And God help anyone who hurts his baby bro. Those two guys found out the hard way last night.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to fight that plumber and pay him back for every combo he styled on me!” chortled Dorf.

“I already did, but I can’t wait for us to fight him together,” said Koopa.

“How about three of us—against him?” asked Wario.

“We’ve done it before,” said Dorf. “This time, the odds are in our favor.”

“Careful, though,” warned Koopa. “Luigi’s starting to pick himself back up. His old combos are gone, but he’ll come up with new combos. Every moment he spends fighting an opponent gives him opportunity to do so.”

“Hm. Thanks for the warning,” said Dorf. “If the combos are new, then they’re flawed. It’s up to us to exploit those flaws.”

“Indeed,” said Wario.

“So—this party,” said Dorf. “Will the other—conspirators—be there?”

“Yup, and you’ll be surprised,” said Koopa.

On the other side of the restaurant, Link and Zelda obscured their faces with their menus, pretending not to listen in on the villains’ conversation. Under the table, Link sent a text message, while Zelda pressed the “Record” button on her own phone.

“We’ve got Marth and Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle and—Falco, the ace pilot of Star Fox,” said Koopa.

“What drew him in? I thought he and Luigi were friends.”

“They were, until Falco got fed up with the combos and gave L a piece of his mind. L took it personally, they fell out, and Falco became the brains behind our venture. It was him who got us in touch with Mr. Sakurai.”

“Whoa,” said Wario.

“Falco also recruited several others to the cause, the best of which was a family of four. The mother, the father, the son and even the daughter gave it their all!”

“I’d love to shake that bird’s hand, because another day of those stupid, f—ing combos would’ve made me lose it!” said Dorf.

They were so engaged that they didn’t notice Luigi enter the café, where the host directed him to Link and Zelda’s table. The elf silently greeted him and put a finger to his lips before directing Luigi to sit at a spot where he could hear and see Koopa, Dorf and Wario, but they couldn’t see him.

“I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Wario was saying, “but I got a piece of the action, as well.”

“Yeah?” asked Koopa.

“I started a little club with some buddies from the eateries I frequent,” grinned Wario. “It was called ‘Let’s Nerf Luigi’. We even had a website where we could exchange ideas. We met every Friday and even went on field trips. It was big fun. Need I mention that we were among the first to petition Sakurai?”

“Bring your club mates to the party tonight,” said Koopa. “The BBs would love to meet them.”

“Ditto to that,” said Wario.

Luigi listened silently, taking deliberate bites of the appetizer he’d ordered and gentle sips of his wine. Link and Zelda studied his face, but could read nothing.

“We have to tell MH,” he whispered finally.

“We can report it anonymously,” said Zelda. “They won’t have to know it’s us.”

“Tell me a bit about these meetings,” said Dorf. “What were they like?”

“Sometimes, we met at their estate, and other times we met at places like Chuck-E-Cheese’s,” said Koopa. “Towards the end, the family of four converted their house into a meeting place. Sadly, I couldn’t make it, as an urgent matter had come up that night.”

“Peach,” realized Dorf.

Koopa sighed in defeat. “Yes, it was Peach. But the next night, I invited everyone to my castle. I picked them up in my airship and flew them over in style, and we stayed the night. A crisis was narrowly averted when those plumber showed up.”

_So that’s why Theo and his family didn’t want to be rescued,_ thought Luigi.

“Then, on the last night, we built a giant bonfire and destroyed the evidence, and then we had a cookout,” smiled Koopa. “It was so much fun. But more fun than that was the day we got the patch notes. I could hear him wailing from my own quarters!”

They laughed.

“Well, he didn’t wail for long. Like I said, he’s using his nerf to dream up new combos.”

“Bet those two guys took him down a peg two days ago,” chortled Wario.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” said Koopa. “That was unacceptable. We want to get back at him for the combos—but on the battlefield, not in the Training Room.”

Dorf nodded. “Those two shouldn’t have done that. Not only can it get Mario breathing down our necks, it also compromises this tournament’s integrity.”

_Hm. Nice to know that they care,_ thought Luigi.

“Hey,” whispered Zelda. “Where’s Mario? I think he should hear this, too.”

Luigi huffed out a breath. “Mario’s—having some issues right now, so I figured that I shouldn’t bother him.”

“Oh, dear,” said Zelda.

“Yeah,” Luigi said crisply. “He’s not taking his suspension well _at all_.”

“You know,” said Zelda. “They don’t call me the Wise Princess of Hyrule just because I have a pretty face. What you just told me is essentially code for ‘Mario and I had a fight’. So, talk to me. What happened?”

“Mario promised me that he wouldn’t do anything rash. He broke that promise,” said Luigi. “I called him out on it, our discussion got heated and he said some cruel words to me. I got the Inferno out of there before I could say—or do—something I’d later regret and further escalate things. As I was walking away, I flipped him off, so that’s a small victory for me.”

“What did he say?” asked Link.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” said Luigi, taking another sip of wine.

They paused as his entrée arrived, and then the man in green started eating it.

“So, if he was here in this diner right now,” he went on, his mouth full of food, “then I’d lose it. That’s all. Just lose it. I’d go nuclear on that fame-hogging, self-pitying, holier-than-thou brother of mine, and it’s gonna wind up on YouTube with a thousand hits before sunset. Not to mention, I’d probably wind up in jail.”

“Luigi,” said Link. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should talk to him…”

“Good luck. He won’t listen. He’ll push you away like he pushed me away.”

“If he’s pushing you away, then that means something happened to him, and he knows that if he tells you…” offered Zelda.

“That was the first thing that came to my mind before our argument heated up.”

“It’s been over twelve hours,” said Zelda. “He’ll probably have calmed down by then.”

“An old friend of mine back in the 90s told me something very important,” said Luigi. “That I shouldn’t let a squabble with Mario tear us apart. We’re the Super Mario Brothers, defenders of the Mushroom Kingdom. Whatever tension exists between us, we understand that Koopa is a worse threat. And no matter what disagreement we have, we’ll always have each other’s backs. I still do—I’m a bit worried about him, but what he said—I need some more time to get it out of my system.”

“See? There you go,” smiled Zelda. “Whenever Link and I get into it over something, we go our separate ways and do a relaxing activity for a few hours. I’d practice my archery, swordplay and magic, read a book, go out with my girlfriends…”

“…and I’d practice my fighting skills and spar with my guy friends before going out to eat or something,” said Link. “Then, I’d buy Zel her favorite ice cream and head to her place, and she’ll be waiting for me with some fresh Lon-Lon Milk and a steak dinner.”

“And then…” Zelda blushed. “Well, that’s not really fit for public ears, is it?”

“At the end of the day, we’re a team and looking out for Hyrule’s best interest,” said Link. “Your friend is very wise, L.”

Luigi nodded, and the three continued to eat their lunch while listening to Koopa, Dorf and Wario talk about the conspiracy to get him nerfed.

**1.1.1**

** _Earlier that morning…_ **

Mario woke up to a slight headache, but a cold shower and a Mushroom chased the mild hangover away. What it couldn’t chase away, however, was the anger and guilt. Anger at Master Hand for not seeing things his way, anger at Luigi for giving him a hard time over something he did for _his_ sake, and guilt over what he’d said that night. He ordered breakfast from room service and slowly ate it, listening to songs on his smartphone. And one of those songs playing? “Whatever it Takes”, by Lifehouse.

“**_I’ll do whatever it takes/To turn this around/I know what’s at stake/I know that I let you down/But if you give me a chance/Believe it, I can change/I’ll keep us together/Whatever it takes…_**”

“How fitting,” he murmured to himself as he finished his food.

Luigi was up well before then, gobbling down a protein shake before pulling on his workout pants, hopping onto his spin bike and beginning an intense morning workout. His eyes were closed, and his earbuds were plugged in, his favorite music blocking out the words that had been said last night. It didn’t take him long to find his rhythm, and as he pedaled hard, the sweat splattered onto the monitor in front of him and the floor around him.

After tending to his toilette, Mario positioned himself at the door adjoining his room to Luigi’s and watched him on his spin bike, taking care not to be seen. He was surprised that he was even using it, as it had been a gift from the elder brother. It was probably a sign that he wasn’t going to cut ties with him anytime soon. It made Mario feel better, but not much. Leaning against the doorjamb, Mario studied his lil’ bro’s slightly bent, glistening back as his shoulder blades and back muscles worked furiously. He saw the gloved hands grip the handlebars securely as his body weaved left and right. Near Luigi’s window was a mirror, and the elder’s eyes flicked towards the sweat-slick reflection. Face pink, eyes closed, mouth rounded, brow slightly furrowed, the perspiration leaving noticeable trails down his neck, shoulders, arms and torso. A lot of women—and men—would sneak peeks at Luigi in the gym whenever he was on one of their spin bikes, and Mario saw the reason why.

_I really need to work out more._

He remained there, watching for a bit, before deciding that he needed to get out of this room. Just because he was suspended didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.

Mario strode over to the exercise studio and signed up for the morning kickboxing class. Thirty minutes later, he was also in workout-suited attire, following the Wii Fit Trainer’s commands to bob, weave, punch and kick as music pounded around the studio. Man, that felt _great_! As the sweat oozed down him, he found his anger dulling, and he started to understand why Luigi loved that spin bike so much.

Immediately after the kickboxing class, Mario bought a Gatorade and went off to the Training Area, where the Sandbags waited. Without a prelude, the man in red began pounding and pummeling the first one he saw, pretending it was Master Hand.

Luigi, meanwhile, remained on his spin bike until his butt got tired, after which he slid off, wiped the bike clean, turned on his music and just danced, body winding and hips gyrating and shoulders rolling. It worked better than the spin bike, as he felt more of his emotions blasting out of him. He forgot everything else and simply danced and danced and danced and danced until a Mii knocked on his door and warned him that the morning matches were coming up.

He ate a bagel, showered, dressed and checked his schedule. What a pity that Mario was suspended, because he really wanted to go a few rounds with him right now. Then, he told himself that now wasn’t a good time. While he was upset at Mario, he didn’t want to seriously injure him.

When the matches started, Mario went to the viewing theater to watch Luigi’s bouts. He was worried that his presence would have a negative effect on his performance, and he didn’t want that. The little man whooped and cheered as Luigi all but demolished the morning’s opponents. He didn’t focus too much on the combos—he just had a lot of ire to let out and what better way to do so than in a Smash battle? As for his opponents and the spectators, they all saw the storm signals and decided it was wise not to get on his case about his nerf.

And as he battled his foes, Luigi felt a familiar warmth piercing through his aggression. Mario was there, rooting for him. He wasn’t physically present in the stands, but he was watching him. If that was a sure sign of remorse for his words, then what was?

However, he still wasn’t ready to talk to him yet.

During lunch break, Luigi had gotten the text from Link, and he met the elf and Zelda at the café, listening to Dorf, Wario and Koopa talking about a plot to nerf his down throw. It was there that he told his two companions about what happened last night.

Mario ate his lunch in the cafeteria before retiring to his room to watch the midday news. An hour later, he was back in the Training Area, sparring with various Miis, and then with other fighters. He won over them quite easily. When the area was mainly empty, he went back to beating a Sandbag.

And then it was back to the viewing theater to watch Luigi duke it out some more.

By four in the afternoon, Mario realized what he had to do.

Calling in some Miis to help, Mario took control of the kitchen, armed himself with a cookbook, and quickly found the pasta recipe he was looking for.

“All right, team,” he said. “Here we go!”

As Benny Goodman and His Orchestra’s “In the Mood” started playing on his MP3, Mario and his Mii team set to work preparing the dish. One Mii cooked the tortellini, another took care of the sun-dried tomatoes, a third was in charge of the cheese, a fourth handled the sauce, and Mario himself combined the ingredients before tasting the dish and organizing the place settings. He divided the finished dish equally into two plates, covered the plates, and placed them on a tray, along with napkins and silverware.

“All right,” he said. “Which of you can play an instrument?”

Hands shot up, and excited voices listed the instruments they could play.

“Great,” said Mario. “Which of you knows a No Doubt song?” No Doubt was one of Luigi’s favorite bands.

Again, hands shot up, and song titles were tossed around.

“Actually,” said one Mii. “I think _this_ No Doubt song is appropriate for the occasion.” He handed Mario a slip of paper.

Mario beamed. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said.

As the Miis quickly rehearsed the song, Luigi finished a grueling free-for-all in which he was barely the last one standing. He shook hands with his opponents, jumped into a refreshing shower and changed clothes. It was then that he noticed that the worst of his anger had dulled, and that he was ready to talk to Mario.

Resolutely, Mario walked down the corridors of the Smash Mansion, one Mii carrying the food while the musicians walked behind the plumber, playing a slow, somber rendition of “Don’t Speak”. They passed the Main Hall and were just about to turn into the hallway leading to Luigi’s room when—

They came upon the man in green himself, also carrying two plates of food, napkins and silverware. A Mii walked beside him, bearing two bottles of Moscato on ice. The brothers paused, right in the center of the hallway.

Mario signaled for the musicians to stop playing without taking his eyes off his baby bro.

The Super Mario Bros were _masters_ of charged gazes, especially if they were exchanged with each other. Remorseful, regretful sea blue eyes met gentle, understanding and forgiving deep blue eyes. The powerful, held look allowed them to say most of what they needed to say, to drop their guards and allow their walls to come crumbling down and to let all of their emotions and vulnerabilities float to the surface. It felt enchanted, the two of them standing there and looking into each other’s eyes about three-quarters of a day after a quarrel.

“Looks like we’re meeting each other halfway, huh?” Mario asked softly.

“Yeah,” said Luigi. “We are. Is that…?”

“Yup. Your favorite dish. And I assume that’s…”

“Spaghetti. Lots of it.”

Mario smiled.

And Luigi smiled back.

“Hey!” one of the Miis piped up, breaking the enchantment. “You two should kiss!”

Mario rolled his eyes. “He’s my brother,” he said.

“Never stopped me.”

And everyone laughed.

**1.1.1**

It wasn’t long before the two brothers were seated at a reserved table in the lounge, the lights comfortably dimmed and 80s music blasting from a Bluetooth speaker, enjoying their pasta dishes. For a while, they didn’t speak, choosing not to until they had a decent amount of food in their bellies.

When their plates were half-eaten, Luigi broke the silence.

“It’s not like I don’t know why you did it,” he said softly, “because I know _exactly_ why you did it. The thing that gets me is that you _actually_ did it, and that you broke a promise you made.”

“I wanted you to heal from your injuries,” explained Mario, “and how could you do that if you were stressing over me?”

“I guess I came across as a hypocrite, too,” said Luigi, “because God forbid if anyone cornered you and beat you bloody, I’d not rest until I find them and make them regret it.”

“I believe you.”

They each took a sip of wine before continuing their talk.

“I’m sorry, Luigi,” said Mario.

“I’ve been hearing that a lot,” said Luigi.

“But I truly am. Everything I said last night—I didn’t mean. I was just so wired and wound tight…”

“…and you took it out on me,” Luigi finished.

“In a way, yes,” sighed Mario. “Luigi—you’ll never be a burden to me. Helping you out has always given me a feeling of satisfaction. You’ve helped me in our adventures more times than I can count. I know you can handle yourself well, too; I don’t need to carry you around all the time. And if you were fighting someone by yourself, I know in my heart that you’ll hold your own, because I’ll still be there, albeit not physically. Luigi, you’re amazing. You saved my life twice. You’re not letting that nerf stop you from kicking [bleep]. You recovered from the attack quicker than I thought. You had every reason to be upset for what I did—because I’m putting you in danger—again.”

“Mario—what are you saying? Is there something you’re trying to hide from me? Is that why you said those words—to push me away?”

“If I told you, then you’d get angry, just like the two Steves made me angry.”

“MH had no choice but to discipline you. You broke the rules.”

Mario sighed. “It’s something else. After he suspended me, he did something—off.”

“What did that glove to do you? Did he hurt you? Bro, let me come in. You have to tell me.”

“He…” Mario began choking up. “He—exploded at me! He said it was _my_ fault for what you endured in 2001! He yelled at me for all the times I put you in danger—essentially called me a bad brother! He said that I was impulsive and that I didn’t think, that I didn’t give a [bleep] about your well-being and that I always had to be the hero of the story! And his words brought back the memories of _that night_, when I was trapped and helpless and you were on your own and…” He sobbed brokenly. “Oh God…”

Luigi put his hand over Mario’s.

“He even said that the Chaos Heart debacle was my fault, too! I was—I was so _mad_! And I was also thinking, ‘What if he’s right? What if I’m a lousy brother who puts you in danger just so I can get a free cake?’ And then you knocked on the door—and I was scared over how you’d react to what went down. I really thought that you’d confront MH and get yourself in trouble along with me.”

“But why did you push me away? Why did you say those things?” Luigi asked calmly.

“I don’t know! It’s just like that glove says—I don’t think. I never think! I’m just a stupid plumber from Brooklyn! I don’t see why they call me a hero!”

“You’re a hero because you faced down a fearsome monster five times your size and won. You help Peach not because of the cake. You help her because it’s right. Because you love her. Because the MK has become another home,” Luigi said firmly. “You’re _my_ hero, too, you know. Life knocked you down, but you got back up, which inspired me to do the same thing, rather than mope about being Player Two and barely being acknowledged.”

“But what if those two come after you again—to get to me?”

Luigi grinned. “I’ll be ready for them. I went down swinging last time, and I’ll do so again and again until they get the message.”

“Ah, Luigi—I was no better than that bird last night. There was no reason for me to blow up at you, but I did, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

Luigi nodded. “Just like Falco’s words, I won’t be able to completely forget the things you said. Am I still a little upset? D—n right I am. But I hate it when we fight, and I don’t wanna lose you, Mario.”

“You’ll never lose me,” whispered Mario.

“We’re brothers first, always. Our disagreements and scuffles are second to whatever crisis arises,” said Luigi. “I knew I needed to talk to you before things got messier. Falco and I drifted apart because I was reluctant to talk to him. I didn’t think he’d understand. In that elevator, I took a big chance—and now I’m taking a chance with you. I’m so happy that you met me halfway, though.”

Both brothers were crying now.

“I hate what you said,” hiccupped Luigi, “but I’ll never hate you. That’s a promise.”

“Oh, Luigi—Luigi! I could barely sleep, knowing that I hurt you,” said Mario, his voice a little high-pitched and warbly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

“I forgive you, Bro. Honestly, I do,” said Luigi, “but if we want to move past this, there’s someone you must forgive, as well—yourself.”

“I—I’ll try, Luigi.”

“Don’t try, Mario. Do,” implored Luigi.

Mario nodded, and soon, their pasta was all but forgotten as they hugged it out on the floor, crying into each other’s shirts. The Mario Bros had been on the outs for most of the day. But once again, their strong, intimate bond beat the odds and survived.

**1.1.1**

At Koopa’s Castle, the planned slumber party was well underway. Dorf, Wario, Roy, Marth, Falco, Dark Pit, Mewtwo, Kyle and the other conspirators (minus Crazy Hand) had arrived there by Koopa’s airship, which he’d treated them to an open bar. By the time they arrived at the castle, they were all primed for the night ahead.

“Before we start this party, I’d like you to welcome back two old friends of mine,” said Koopa. “Dorf contributed in secret, and Wario organized his own club.”

“Speaking of which, here they come,” grinned Wario.

As his club buddies entered in a neat, single-file line, Wario introduced them one by one.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Gene, Maura, Stacy, Rick, Cassie, Laurel, Carl, Matt, Ava, Lynn, Brent, Drew, Alaina and Les—the members of the Let’s Nerf Luigi club!”

The conspirators of Project Nerf cheered and high-fived the newcomers.

“Nice to finally meet you,” said Shane.

“Same here!” chirped Ava. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“We wish you could’ve joined us, though,” said Vince.

“I know,” groaned Drew, “but Wario didn’t want to take a chance. Someone could’ve noticed and told…”

“You don’t have to say anything more,” grimaced Falco.

“Well, he’s been suspended for two weeks,” shrugged Koopa.

“That doesn’t mean he’s not allowed to leave the Smash Mansion,” warned Falco.

“Okay—enough of this talk,” said Wario. “Did we come here to party, or did we come here to start fretting about Mr. Perfect?”

“Good point,” said Lynn. “Let’s party!”

Koopa turned on the music, then, and the dancing began. Koopa Troopas with platters of finger food weaved their way through the crowd, followed by Hammer Bros offering free drinks to those 21 and over. A few more of Koopa’s minions set up face-painting booths for the younger kids, which grew into a full-on Kids’ Area. After an hour or so of dancing, Koopa helped set up Beer Pong tables for the grown-ups and personally refereed a few rounds before organizing games and contests for guests of all ages. During all this—the Smashers caught up with Dorf and Wario, where they learned exactly how the Gerudo King had secretly helped them. They all promised to attend in droves if Master Hand ever arranged a three-way match between Koopa, Wario, Dorf and Luigi—though they were unsure who they’d root for by then.

At midnight, Koopa ushered his guests into his home theater, popped some popcorn and put on a movie for them. They all sat around, wrapped in Snuggies and munching on popcorn, eyes fixed on the screen in front of them, laughing at the comic parts and tearing up at the somber parts.

It was two in the morning when the party guests were assigned to their rooms. Koopa’s minions helped them with their luggage as good nights were exchanged.

“It’s really good to have you two back,” Koopa said to his two friends.

“It’s good to be back on the battlefield,” said Dorf.

“I sure can’t wait to see my schedule tomorrow,” said Wario.

Koopa saw the rest of his guests to their rooms before retiring to his own chambers and flopping onto his bed.

Within moments, he was asleep.


	7. T Plus 6 Days

An airship flew across the morning skies, her engines quiet. Aboard her were last night’s slumber party guests, en route to the Smash Mansion, with Koopa at the wheel as Captain. Her deck had been turned into a banquet hall, with her passengers enjoying a variety of breakfast foods and juices.

Back in the Smash Mansion, Mario surprised Luigi with breakfast in bed. They ate their meal together, watching the morning news on TV and enjoying each other’s company, their heated exchange two nights ago all but forgotten.

In the skies, Koopa joined his guests at breakfast, as a Koopa Troopa had offered to take the wheel for him.

“We should do this more often,” he mused as he heaped up his plate with eggs and breakfast meat.

“I was just about to say that,” said Falco. “Thank you for your hospitality last night.”

“Hey, Dorf—who’s the first person you’re looking forward to fighting again?” asked Manny.

“Luigi, of course!” laughed Dorf.

“Why am I not surprised?” asked Manny.

“Hey,” Shane said to Koopa. “I’m glad you didn’t invite Crazy Hand. He’s given off some creepy vibes lately.”

Marth shuddered. “He’s been asking us ‘hypothetically’ if we’d tell anyone about Project Nerf and giving us gifts for our ‘loyalty’.”

“These last few days have given us all sorts of doubts about our actions,” said Kyle. “I keep asking myself if there was another way to handle those combos.”

Everyone chattered in agreement.

“Either we confess—or Master Hand or those plumbers will find out,” warned Roy.

“Or Chad will tell them,” offered Stevie.

“Chad—the one who quit?” asked Wario.

“And we’re starting to think we’re happy he did,” said Marth. “We were blind, and that was why we were mad at him.”

“Are you kidding?” hissed Stevie. “Chad was a coward through and through. He bailed because he wanted to protect his brand-new image!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Falco.

Meanwhile, the Bros primed themselves for the day, first with a cardio kickboxing class, and then with a Zumba class. Mario was still stunned that Luigi could dance like that.

“You’ll be out there today?” Luigi asked before he went to check his schedule.

“Oh, yeah!” smiled Mario.

“We’re okay, right?”

“We are,” Mario said softly. “We’re totally okay.”

The two plumbers hugged, deeply and tenderly, before reluctantly separating.

Koopa’s airship made her final approach and docked at the Smash Mansion. Ramps around the ship lowered, and her passengers streamed into the walkway leading to the building. They were all headed for the same place—the Main Hall, where the schedules awaited.

Luigi was already there when they arrived.

_Don’t make eye contact_, they thought.

But they felt his eyes on them and wondered if they should confess everything to him, right then and there. Dorf and Wario wisely chose not to tell him how they looked forward to beating him in a Smash battle. Steve and Stevie quietly excused themselves and left, since they were suspended, anyway. The rest stood there, staring into space, waiting for Luigi to finish looking over his schedule so they could check theirs.

“I can see that you two enjoyed yourselves last night,” Luigi said tersely.

“Is that a crime?” asked Koopa.

“I didn’t say it was a crime. I’m not accusing you of anything. It’s just that I find this an odd coincidence. You’re all partying and celebrating after I got nerfed, and then beaten nearly senseless by your two friends, Steve and Stevie.”

_For what it’s worth,_ said Mewtwo, _we’re sorry those two attacked you._

“Yeah,” said Marth. “We didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I bet,” said Luigi. Then, his eyes lit up. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“Yes, we hated your combos,” Roy jumped in, “but not so much that we wanted to beat the you-know-what out of you in the Training Area.”

“You know, it’s funny how Master Hand suspects something about this new patch,” Luigi said pointedly. “Any of you happen to know anything about that?”

“If we did, then we would’ve told Master Hand,” said Koopa.

“And Mario thinks something’s up, too,” said Luigi. “Who knows what he might do in these coming two weeks, seeing that he has some time on his hands now?”

Everyone exchanged quick looks, Falco doing his best to hide behind the others.

“And if either of them don’t find anything out—there’s a good chance someone else will,” Luigi went on. “Maybe I’ll start doing some detective work myself. You’ve been enjoying my nerf too much for comfort.”

“I can explain that,” said Dark Pit.

Luigi’s look cut him off. “Enjoy it while you can,” he said icily, “because my ‘disadvantage’ won’t last for long. You have yourselves a nice day.”

The man in green turned on his heel and left.

“Yeah—good talk,” Koopa called after him.

The conspirators were more relaxed in viewing their schedules, for they didn’t have Mario to worry about for the time being. But this time, slight foreboding crept into the stomachs of those who saw Luigi in their timeslots. Because they knew he was right—he was learning how to adapt to the nerf. The euphoria was slowly coming to an end, and they had to get back to business and fight.

Furthermore, who was to say that they didn’t have to fight the close friends of the Mario Bros—Peach, for example?

**1.1.1**

It was mid-morning. Mario was in his room, freshening up from a workout in the Training Area. Just as he changed into fresh clothes, someone gently knocked on the door, a familiar dulcet voice calling to him.

“Just a minute.” Mario strode over to the door and opened it.

“Hey,” said Peach.

“Look,” he quietly began, “if you’re here to dress me down over what happened with those two, now’s not a good time.”

“And what if I _do_ give you some grief for it?” challenged Peach. “Are you gonna blow a fuse like you did with Luigi?”

“I…” Mario sighed heavily, the guilt still there.

“Yeah. News travels fast. You didn’t really think I wasn’t gonna find out, did you?”

“Erm—for a second there, yeah. I kinda did.”

“Well—if you chose to blow your top again, I might not give you _this_,” said Peach, holding up one of her cakes.

Mario salivated.

They made themselves comfortable on Mario’s bed, leveling out careful slices of the rich pastry onto their plates.

“Don’t get me wrong, Mario,” Peach was saying. “I know why you beat up Steve and Stevie. It’s just—I can’t believe you did it.”

“That’s almost exactly what Luigi said,” said Mario.

“You should listen to your brother,” said Peach. “The other Smashers can’t stop talking about it, and they totally empathize with you over the subject. They just need to process that you went that route.”

“So—I’ve got some notoriety now,” said Mario. “That’s good to know.”

“It must’ve been satisfying to you, and it would’ve been satisfying for me to watch. Sneaking a peek at them in the hospital that night was a healthy dose of catharsis for me,” Peach went on. “I’m just having trouble reconciling the man who did that to the man who’s fought for me, defended my kingdom and rescued me countless times for almost 30 years.”

Mario paused mid-chew. He didn’t really think of it that way.

“Your intentions were honorable, yes. But what example did you set for your fans that night—for the young kids who want to be like you when they grow up? What example did you set for the Toads? Do you think they’ll look at you the same way again?”

“I’m sure they’ll understand,” said Mario.

“Believe me, if I walked in on someone attacking you, then I’d rush to your defense. If I wasn’t in that cage, then I’d be in the thick of those fights with that turtle. But to me, violence is a last resort.”

“And I could’ve ignored them? That’s almost like a broken record to me,” said Mario. “Like I keep saying, I tried to ignore them, but what they were saying—they minced no words on how much they enjoyed putting Luigi in the hospital.”

“You know,” Peach said. “The Smashers like to think of it as you getting suspended for Luigi’s sake. That you took the punishment he would’ve come under had he confronted his attackers himself.”

“If he confronts them, then it’ll be on the battlefield. He told me so himself. He’s got a lot of self-restraint.” He looked at her with puppy-dog eyes. “You’re not…?”

“How could I be upset at you? You cooled off, you apologized to him, and you’re taking steps to make it right. You’re not like Falco, who just said ‘I’m sorry’ and thought the matter was closed.” Peach’s eyes shone. “Personally, you going to such extremes to defend Luigi is—admirable. Kinda like—a vigilante hero.”

“A vigilante hero,” Mario said quietly. “That’s a good way to put it.”

“You may be out of commission for two weeks, but we haven’t forgotten you,” said Peach. “We’re greatly anticipating your return.”

Mario blushed. “Thank you.”

They leaned over the cake platter and kissed.

Then, Mario told Peach about what happened between him and Master Hand, what the latter had said to him after administering the punishment.

“I’m not trying to excuse how I acted with Luigi,” he said when he was finished. “I want you to understand.”

“If he can forgive you, then so can I,” said Peach. “Just—don’t be afraid to tell any of us about it. We’ll—_try_ to hold it together.”

“Okeydokey,” said Mario.

They set aside the cake, plates and cutlery before kissing again, Mario gently rolling onto Peach and sliding his hands down her body and under the skirt of her dress, eventually divesting her of that garment while she did the same to his overalls and shirt. They made out for about fifteen minutes before doing the same to their undergarments. For the rest of the morning, they made love on Mario’s comfortable bed, next to a nearly-eaten cake, as the autumn sun streamed down.

**1.1.1**

Master Hand had barfed up some more of that black substance earlier that morning. He felt better now, but he was very curious as to where that stuff came from. It was probably stress, but he’d been stressed before and didn’t puke up anything. MH made a mental note to see Dr. Mario as soon as his hectic schedule allowed him.

He pressed the intercom and got in touch with Jimmy. “Could you bring him in, please? Thank you,” he said.

Several moments later, Jimmy walked into the office, accompanied by a stone-faced Mario. Jimmy nodded and withdrew, leaving MH alone with the portly plumber.

“Hello, Mario,” greeted MH. “Please, have a seat.”

Coldly, Mario obeyed. In his eyes, MH saw that he was none-too-pleased to be summoned here. He could only pray that the man in red would hear him out.

“Mario,” MH began. “I wish to apologize for what I said to you that night. You may have been in the wrong, but I had no reason to tear you apart like that.”

“No,” Mario said, his voice hard. “You didn’t.”

“It was like—a switch flipped, you know? Like I was a different person altogether. I honestly don’t know what made me act like that.”

“Yeah,” said Mario. “They all say that.”

“While I brought up some valid points, I should’ve presented them in a nicer way,” MH went on, “and I know for a fact that what happened that night in 2001 was nobody’s fault except those Boos.”

Mario said nothing, his eyes fixed unflinchingly on the Hand on Creation.

“You did what you did to discourage them from going after Luigi again, I get that. But I can’t make exceptions to breaking the rules and compromising our integrity.”

“_Our_ integrity?” asked Mario. “Or yours?”

“Mario—I’m swallowing my pride here,” said MH. “You have every right to be hurt by the words I volleyed at you.”

“It’s because of your position that you didn’t wind up a smoldering heap on the floor,” Mario said tightly.

“Getting aggressive won’t make things any better,” cautioned MH. “Now, I know I said some brutal things, but at least try to listen to what I’m telling you.”

“Yes, well—I have no interest in whatever you have to say.”

“That’s too bad, because we’re having this talk, whether you want it or not,” said MH. Composing himself, he continued, “Contrary to what I said, you’re doing a _great_ job as Nintendo’s mascot, fighting for what’s right, saving the Princess, giving the masses a hero to look up to. And the way you love your brother—I wish they made more games examining that. But heroes have flaws, and they can’t be exempt from facing the consequences of their actions. I didn’t _want_ to suspend you, but I had no choice. In fact, I gave you a relatively short suspension compared to the two Steves because I considered the ‘why’ as well as the ‘what’.”

“Hm. That’s good to know,” said Mario. “Here’s what you left out—you had a choice when it came to reacting to what I did, and you _chose_ to say those things.”

“I certainly _did not_,” said MH. “They just—came out. I’ve asked myself why they did, and I can’t think of an answer.”

Mario laughed sharply. “Words like that always ‘come out’. Either that, or they ‘slip out’. Like it makes it better.”

“I’m not making any excuses for my words, Mario,” said MH.

“Yeah? Well good for you, because I can’t get them out of my head!” Mario suddenly burst into sobs. “I keep going back to that night when I was in that portrait, banging on it, as Luigi faced the epitome of fear, with nobody around to help! And then when that jester possessed him—twice—I had horrible nightmares for days after that! And now—the suspicion that people had him nerfed just for [bleeps] and giggles—I can barely list all the times I failed him!” He sobbed explosively, stormily, chest heaving and snot stringing from his nose. MH gave him a few tissues.

“I know it’s hard, but please, forgive me,” said MH.

Mario fiercely shook his head, continuing to cry uncontrollably.

“Okay—then tell me how to make it right. I’d do anything. I hope you know that.”

“Any-thing?”

“Yes, anything.”

“You really want to make this right?” Mario choked out. “Then tell me who’d want to nerf my brother! I want the names of those who came to your office to lose their [bleep] over him!”

“Oh, my God. This again?”

“No, no.” Mario’s eyes narrowed. “You said you’d do anything to earn my forgiveness. I’m asking for the Smashers who put the idea of nerfing Luigi in your head.”

“You wanna be mad at me? Then be mad. Yell at me. Punch me. Throw fireballs at me. I’ll take it all, because I deserve it for hurting you,” said MH. “Just—don’t ask me to breach confidentiality.”

“They probably used confidentiality as a cover,” spat Mario, more tears streaming down his face. “Only one Smasher told Luigi what he thought of him directly, and that was Falco. And even then, he played the victim. They’re all cowards. Miserable f—ing cowards.”

“I’m still investigating, all right? Once I find something, I’ll publish a report which you can access on the website, and the culprits will be dealt with accordingly. Look, I’m sorry about my behavior, I truly am, but don’t try to guilt-trip me. What will your fans, Peach and Luigi think of that?”

Mario considered this. Then, he slowly began to calm down, taking deep breaths and wiping his tear-stained face. The cold, hard look returned to his visage as he looked at Master Hand.

“I will have time on my hands for the next two weeks,” he said stonily, “and since your confidentiality rule isn’t doing any favors, then I’ll probably launch an investigation of my own. And I promise you, I _will_ find out what I want to find out. In the meantime, you’re going to think about what you said to me, why you said it to me, and what made you think you could get away with saying it to me.” He rose from his seat. “You have yourself a nice day, Master Hand.”

Mario turned around and marched out of the office.

He roamed the halls, fists clenched, shaking in anger. He passed various Smashers who gazed curiously at him, but decided to leave him be. There was only one exception to that, though.

“Hey, Mario,” laughed Koopa. “How’s your suspension coming? I hope you won’t mind if I pay our Peachy a visit during your enforced leave.”

Mario gave him a volcanic stare and continued on his way.

“Another time, then,” said Koopa.

The man in red walked toward the special parking lot, where he knew the VIPs kept their vehicles. Noticing a golf club laying around, he grabbed it, enjoying the feel of it. He was glad he came across this golf club. It was good to have a golf club. One could do many things with a golf club.

Mario continued walking until he was among the cars, the rage so great he could barely breathe. Fiery eyes scoured the cars until they fell on the big one. And then sweat popped out on his skin, and his breath came fast.

_Oh, yes. The big one…_

Back in MH’s office, Rory had just brought the glove his lunch. “How’d it go?” he asked.

“I don’t think he’s forgiven me yet,” mused MH, “and I honestly don’t blame him.”

_Crash! Crash! Crash!_

Rory stiffened. “What was that?”

“The garage!” barked MH. “Hurry!”

Rory took off toward the garage, shouting for his three friends as he went. The smashing sounds grew louder, faster and more violent as the foursome drew closer.

Nightsticks drawn, Rory, Remy, Jimmy and Timmy burst into the garage. “Don’t move! We’ve got you!” they cried in unison.

But there was nobody there. Only shattered glass, broken windows, headlights and taillights, and a badly beat up frame. Together, these things made up what used to be Master Hand’s private vehicle.

**1.1.1**

After going through the surveillance footage, Timmy turned to MH. “What shall we do with him?” he asked.

“We’ll let him get as much of this nonsense out of his system as he can,” MH said quietly. “If his hostility persists, then I’ll have to take further action.”

“I like Mario,” said Remy. “I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Same here,” said MH.

The phone rang, and Jimmy answered it. “It’s him,” he said, holding out the phone to MH.

Sharply, MH took the phone. “You waltz into the private garage and smash up my vehicle?!”

Mario’s voice was unsettlingly serene. “Now will you change your mind?”

“Change my mind? Not a chance!” vowed MH. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, but you’ll soon find out.”

“Give me the names,” Mario said quietly.

“How about one of these days, we have lunch together and talk this out?” offered MH. “We can…”

_Click_.

MH sighed and handed the phone back to Jimmy. “He threatened me and hung up,” he said. “All right, you four. I want you to keep a closer eye on him than before and find out the places he frequents the most. If he even sneezes in a manner you find suspicious, you let me know. Whatever he has on his mind, it’s your job to discourage him.” He let out a huff. “For a little man, he’s a big problem.”

**1.1.1**

Mario was back in his room, playing Smash on his 3DS. His eyes were narrowed, and his tongue slid across his lips as his fingers flew over the controls. He was deep into the game, but not so deep that he couldn’t hear the knock on his door or the voice calling his name.

“Luigi,” he said, pausing the system and answering the door.

“I brought dinner,” said the man in green, holding up the tray. “I thought you were sick of cafeteria food.”

“Good guess,” said Mario.

The duo made themselves comfortable on the bed, and Mario put on an on-demand movie to watch while they ate.

“I must say, Bro—I never thought you had it in you,” said Luigi.

“How did you find out?” asked Mario.

“You’re kidding, right? It didn’t take long for the news to spread,” said Luigi. “You’re really devoted to me, huh?”

“I am.”

“So—why this sudden interest in the people who complained to MH, hm?”

“If your nerf was deliberate, then they’re the first suspects. There’s obvious motive,” explained Mario.

“And once you find out the people who yelled about me, then what?” asked Luigi.

“I’ll interview them,” said Mario.

“Bro, you’re looking out for me, and that’s great,” said Luigi, “but I don’t want you getting yourself into more trouble.” He playfully ruffled Mario’s hair. “Taking a golf club to Master Hand’s car? You’ve always been quick to action, but never _that_ quick. And that won’t get any answers, will it?”

“I guess not,” conceded Mario.

“Second of all, acting out like that will make me reluctant to give you _these_.” Luigi withdrew a tape recorder and a manila envelope as he spoke.

Mario raised an eyebrow. “You found something?”

“Koopa picked up his friends Wario and Ganondorf from the train depot,” said Luigi, “and they went out to eat afterwards. Link and Zelda were also there, and they invited me to listen in. Zelda recorded as much of their conversation as she could, and she made several copies of the tape. She gave one copy to me and kept the rest, along with the original, in a safe location.”

“Smart,” said Mario. “What’s in the envelope?”

“Link and I took some photos,” said Luigi. “Wario said something about a club called ‘Let’s Nerf Luigi’. You can question him about it, if you want—but that would give away the fact that someone listened in on the conversation. Wait for the opportune moment to chase after these leads.”

“Opportune moment?”

“I know you don’t trust MH right now, but if we bring this to his attention, he can protect us.”

“You really think he’ll get the truth out of them?”

Luigi smiled. “He’s very intimidating. Take as much time as you need looking through all of this.”

“Thank you, Luigi,” Mario said sincerely. “I could really use you on the case.”

“You’re welcome, Mario. Are you sure we’re okay? I shouldn’t have pushed you like that…”

“What happened that night was my fault. I’ll take the blame. You were just trying to help,” said Mario. “But can we not talk about it anymore? Now that we have a lead, I think we should focus our energies on it.”

Luigi brightened. “Agreed.”

After finishing their dinner, Luigi whipped out his own 3DS, and the Bros spent the rest of the evening playing each other in Smash, speaking no more of what happened between them recently. Mario wasn’t allowed to fight in Smash battles for two weeks, but MH said nothing about playing the game on a 3DS or Wii U.

Finally, Mario’s eyelids drooped, and Luigi’s thumbs got tired.

“Great game, L,” said Mario.

“Same,” said Luigi. “Take a break before going through the stuff I gave you. Because if you wind up expelled…”

Mario put a hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “Once I cool off, I’ll talk things out with MH and apologize for the car,” he said, “but I won’t do anything to further jeopardize my standing in this tournament. That’s a promise I _can_ keep.”

Luigi smiled at his brother. Despite the occasional fights, friction and the usual fame inequality, he was very grateful to have Mario in his life. “Good night, Bro,” he said.

“Good night, L.”

They embraced, and then Luigi headed to his own room to wind down for the night.


	8. T Plus 7 Days

“Excuse me, Master Hand?”

MH turned and smiled at Zelda. “Hey, Zel. What’s on your mind?”

“Is there a place where we can talk in private?” asked Zelda. “I have something to tell you.”

“Sure,” said MH.

The glove teleported himself and Zelda to a restaurant, where they sat in a private booth.

“What is it, Zel?”

Zelda took a breath. “The day Dorf and Wario returned, Link and I overheard them talking with Koopa about something. It had to do with Luigi’s down throw nerf.”

“What did they say?”

“Something about Koopa and a few other Smashers teaming up with three brothers and Mr. Sakurai to—manipulate you.”

“Mr. Sakurai was in on this?” asked MH.

“I recorded their conversation,” said Zelda. “Then, I copied the recordings. I’m going to give you one of the copies, and Luigi also has a copy. The rest are stashed away someplace safe.”

Zelda pressed the copy of the recording into MH’s palm.

“Luigi was present?” he asked.

“Link texted him and invited him to join us so he could listen in.”

MH pursed his lips. “I can see why he’s reluctant to tell me.”

“He’s just waiting. He doesn’t want Mario to do something stupid,” said Zelda.

“Once Mario cools off, I plan to have lunch with him, where we can finally talk things over,” said MH.

Zelda nodded. “Shall I play the recording now?” she asked.

“Please,” said MH.

She pressed “play”, and the two of them sat in silence as they listened to the recorded three-way conversation between Koopa, Dorf and Wario.

MH remained quiet long after the tape had finished playing.

“Are you okay, Master Hand?” asked Zelda.

“Yeah. I just can’t believe this,” gasped MH. “The name ‘Bennigan’, though—it sounds familiar…”

“A revenge plot by Stuart’s brothers?” offered Zelda.

“The tape gives little context, so there’s no way of knowing. However, they named Falco, Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit and Kyle. I’m going to have to interview them in my office, along with Koopa, Wario and Ganondorf.”

“Could you leave my name out of this?” asked Zelda.

“Absolutely. Your report shall be treated as confidential and anonymous,” promised MH. “If the need arises, though, are you willing to testify to this?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you, Link and Luigi safe. Does Mario know?”

“I’d guess that Luigi shared his copy of the recording with him. Whether or not he’s looked at it yet…”

“Thank you, Zelda, for coming forward,” said MH. “You may relax for now, but I’d like you to be ready to obey my summons at a minute’s notice.”

“I’ll pass that on to Luigi and Link,” said Zelda. “Just—don’t talk to Luigi until after you’ve smoothed things over with Mario.”

“Of course.”

Zelda rose, patted MH on his knuckles and left.

**1.1.1**

After priming themselves with a meatball hero and a glass of wine each, the Super Mario Bros sat in Luigi’s room, his copy of Zelda’s tape between them. Mario looked to his younger brother for strength, and Luigi nodded. Nodding back, Mario pressed “play”.

For the duration of the tape, there were no sounds except for their arch-rival’s voice as he talked to Dorf and Wario about a plan to subvert the tournament for the sole purpose of getting under Luigi’s skin. Falco’s name was spoken among the list of conspirators, as was Roy’s, Kyle’s, Dark Pit’s, Mewtwo’s and Marth’s. Mr. Sakurai was also mentioned, meaning that he was definitely involved in the plot, or at least knew about it. And it was Falco, who used to be Luigi’s friend, who personally reached out to the tournament’s financier!

Luigi held Mario’s hand as the tape continued, Dorf discussing the phone calls and secret contributions he made, and Wario talking about his club. The fact that they conceded that the two Steves’ attack was wrong did little to negate the impact of what they just heard. Then, they heard a name—Project Nerf. So, that’s what it was called.

The three voices talked a little about Chad, but expressed surprisingly positive sentiment about him leaving the venture. While Chad felt remorse for his actions—Koopa didn’t seem to feel any. At least, not yet.

After the tape finished, the brothers sat there, recovering from this new piece of information. Then, they looked over the photos. They consisted of the three villains sitting together at a table, laughing about something. Out of curiosity, Mario booted up his laptop and did a Google search on “Let’s Nerf Luigi”, which took him to the club’s website.

Everything was so neatly laid out for the two of them. The “About Us” and “Mission Statement” sections were particularly helpful. Luigi wrote down the contact info and perused the list of pivotal club members.

“We have to get one of them to turn on Wario,” said Luigi, “but how?”

Next, the two Googled “Project Nerf”, and one of the search results took them to a Miiverse forum. On this forum, Miiverse users minced no words on how they’d had it with Luigi’s combos and wanted them eliminated. How in the world were they able to get away with such abuse? There was so much language that any sane person would’ve flagged those posts on the spot. Someone had also uploaded photos of the conspirators in several locales the Mario Bros recognized and some places they’d never seen before. The people’s faces were blurred—not that it would help. Using this information, they’d eventually figure out the identities of everyone in those photos.

“[Bleep] this, I’m on f—ing Miiverse with my f—ing hands up,” one Miiverse user seethed, bruised up from what was obviously a bout against Luigi. “I’m not starting my f—ing self! You f—ing stupid [bleep]! This stupid f—ing justice, all f—ing righteous f—ing [BLEEP], Luigi, is doing this [bleep]! You f—ing [BLEEP]! I swear to f—ing God, I’m gonna…You know what? Everyone type in the chat ‘Luigi’s a stupid [bleep]’. Just type in the chat ‘Luigi’s a stupid [bleep]’. [Bleep] him. [Bleep] him.”

Mario slammed a fist on the desk, cursing in Italian.

“Hey—hey,” said Luigi, rubbing Mario’s back. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Nodding, Mario took a few deep breaths before pouring himself another glass of wine, plus one for his baby bro.

Luigi took a small gulp of wine and then followed another link—it appeared someone tried to shut this website down but didn’t do a good enough job. There, the Mario Brothers struck gold.

“This is insane,” gasped Mario. “It’s like this entire website is about dumping on you!”

Silently, Luigi clicked on the “Project Nerf” link, where the plot was revealed in most of its sinister glory. Each page he opened revealed paragraph after paragraph of hate and salt against his playstyle. At least whoever tried to close down the site managed to take down the videos and audio of the meetings, as well as the list of conspirators. But they had the tape, and they also had Chad. The question remained, however—could they trust him?

After exploring the Project Nerf pages, Luigi next clicked on “Operation Ballot Box”. All it said was that “a certain candidate for the Smash Ballot doesn’t deserve to win”, but he instantly knew what they were talking about.

“We have to stop them before it’s too late,” he gasped. They could mess with his down throw however they wanted to—but Daisy was off limits!

**1.1.1**

“It isn’t very often that someone treats me to hot dogs,” said Charlie.

“Really?” asked Chad. “How can anyone resist a good wiener? Especially one as long and thick and juicy as the ones we’re having now?”

Charlie laughed.

“Maybe they’re compensating for something,” shrugged Chad.

“Yeah—I guess they are,” said Charlie.

Chad and Charlie sat in the park, enjoying their long, thick and juicy wieners dressed in buttery buns and yellow mustard, with a side of crinkle-cut fries and a Sprite. It was a park far from the reach of Crazy Hand and potential spies, something Chad was very relieved to find. After tossing and turning last night, he decided that his new friend needed to know everything, since she was an avid Luigi—and _Castlevania_—fan. After learning of Mario’s recent actions, Chad knew that he was close to finding out, and once he did…

“Speaking of big wieners,” said Chad, coming back to the present, “there’ve been tons of them in Smash, making Luigi’s life unbearable, trying to get him to quit. But he’s a Mario Bro. And a Mario Bro never quits.”

“You got that right,” said Charlie. Then, she gave Chad a piercing stare. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“I hate to ruin the mood, but—I brought you out here for a reason,” said Chad. “I need to—elaborate on something, and it’s best done in private.”

“Elaborate? What about?”

“It’s about Luigi,” explained Chad, “and the way I used to treat him.”

Charlie blinked. “That morning at breakfast, you told me you used to hate him.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Chad said, a timbre coming to his voice. “It’s about the down throw combos he used to have. People hated those combos. Including me.”

“Go on,” encouraged Charlie.

“After a while, the haters got together and formulated a little plot to ‘knock Luigi off his little pedestal’, and I wound up drawn into their circle,” Chad explained. “First, they attacked him on Miiverse. Then, they colluded with three brothers to get him nerfed.”

“So—a bunch of Smashers got him nerfed?” asked Charlie.

Chad nodded. “Luigi beat me in a match, and I stormed to MH’s office and said a lot of terrible things, things I wish I can take back. That night, I went to one of the conspirators’ meetings. The very next day, Luigi and I were paired in a Team Battle, and I already talked about my conduct then. Seeing the look on his face snapped me out of it, and I managed to escape before they could pull me under. Everyone took it pretty well—save for one.”

“Let me guess—is it Koopa?”

Chad shook his head. “He didn’t take part in the meetings, but he contributed financially and set up the meeting places. Due to his high position in Smash—he couldn’t risk showing his face.”

“Who, Chad?”

Chad checked to see if the coast was clear before responding. “Crazy Hand.”

Charlie nearly dropped her hot dog.

“It’s true. Something must’ve happened between him and Luigi, because he aided these conspirators from the side. He hates me for ‘defecting’ to Luigi’s side, and he wants me to participate in another underhanded scheme, using evidence of my involvement as leverage.”

“What scheme?”

“Operation Ballot Box. There’s a certain—candidate—they want to bar from winning the Smash Ballot.”

“Daisy,” realized Charlie.

“I’m confessing to you in order to free myself from Crazy Hand,” explained Chad, “and plus, you would’ve found out anyway, and then you would’ve hated me for the rest of my life.”

“What about Luigi? Have you told him yet?”

“Uh—sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of? Who did Crazy Hand threaten to leak this information to?”

“Mario.”

“Okay, well—if you truly want to escape Crazy Hand’s power, then maybe you should tell Mario,” said Charlie.

“I—kinda told them both,” said Chad. “I asked them to meet me in a secure location in less than two weeks, so CH won’t find out that I spilled.”

“Okay—okay, I can see that,” said Charlie. “How about I come with you?”

“And put yourself in danger just by knowing what I told you?”

“And support you. I know you won’t like doing it, and it scares everything holy out of you. Maybe if I’m there, it won’t be so hard. And if it’s hard for you to look them in the eye while talking about it, then look at me.”

“Charlie—I don’t deserve this. I hurt Luigi, and I hurt you for not telling the truth.”

Charlie laid a hand over hers. “It would’ve been nice to know sooner,” she conceded, “but if you think about it—those guys basically brainwashed you. And you managed to break free.”

“But I didn’t stop the plan,” sighed Chad. “I guess I was too scared.”

“Here’s your chance to make things right,” said Charlie. “Instead of saying that you’re sorry—prove to them—to me—that you’re sorry.”

“There’s—one other thing,” said Chad. “Don’t trust Steve. Or Stevie. They’re vicious, callous people who don’t belong in this tournament. One morning, I was looking at my matches when they tried to attack me.”

“They were involved in this?”

“Yes? And—I used to think they were my friends. Pretty bad friends, if you ask me. They’re working very closely with Crazy Hand now. So whatever comes out of their mouths—probably isn’t true.”

“Lauren told me a little about them.”

“They mustn’t know about this, either. So, if they approach you, act natural, but don’t fall for their lies.”

Charlie grinned. “I think I can do that.”

“Work on Operation Ballot Box won’t start until November,” said Chad, “so we’ll have plenty of time to stop it.”

“Hm. Good to know,” said Charlie. “You’re right about one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“There _are_ a lot of big wieners in Smash. And Steve and Stevie are the biggest wieners of all.”

They laughed.

“Oh, Charlie—how can you look at me the same way again?”

“Well…” Charlie said in a very serious tone. “Don’t be a wiener.”

The tension broken, Chad burst into heartier peals of laughter. “All right,” he managed to say. “I won’t.”

**1.1.1**

It was just after 10p.m. Koopa lumbered into his castle, where all his generals and minions lined up to greet him. Suddenly, Kamek, Koopa’s trusted advisor, flew over to him, an urgent look on his face, holding a slip of paper in his hand.

“Your Vileness—this just came in,” said Kamek, handing the slip of paper to his boss.

Koopa opened the slip and read out the laconic message: _We’re onto you_.

Slowly, Koopa looked up. “Thank you, Kamek. I’ll take care of it.”

After dismissing his minions for the night, Koopa proceeded to his phone and dialed up the Bennigan Brothers.

“Those pesky plumbers are on your tail,” he warned. “Stay alert.”

And then he hung up.

Back in the Smash Mansion, the Mario Bros lay awake in their respective rooms, silently vowing to get to the bottom of this scheme if it was the last thing they did.


	9. T Plus 8 Days

Charlie, Eden and Lauren were fired up. They’d been fired up since the release of the new patch. And seeing how some of the Smashers were treating Luigi in its wake made them even more fired up. But they didn’t get angry. Oh, no. They focused their fire inward and turned it into energy and strength to send to Luigi during his bouts.

The three women were now de facto leaders of Luigi’s antsy fans, easing their fears and getting them fired up, as well. They started holding rallies thirty minutes before a match, and they were happy to help out with the face and bodypainting. It didn’t take long for the centermost section of the stands to cram with Luigi’s strongest supporters, armed with motivational signs and something green, be it an article of clothing or a lucky charm. But the majority of them showed up dressed like the man in green.

After setting a positive mood by playing some music, Eden, Lauren and Charlie would lead the others in greeting Luigi with a thunderous cheer when he emerged onto the stage. The bruises from the two Steves’ attack had completely healed, albeit there was still some swelling, but he still looked great. His eyes would sweep over the stands, and he’d smile, grateful for the support. Then, everyone would watch the ensuing matchup, hanging onto every moment, shouting to Luigi every so often as he continued to pull himself up from his nerf.

These vibes, in turn, rubbed off on Mario, calming the storm within him and making him temporarily forget about his suspension and his distrust in Master Hand. He sat in his usual spot, beaming, watching his lil’ bro break a sweat and hold his own and hammer those new combos into his strategy. U-tilt to u-smash. F-throw to dash attack. D-throw to f-smash. D-throw to Cyclone. D-throw to u-smash. And when an opponent managed to catch him off guard, he merely switched to a defensive stance, tossing off fireballs, utilizing his forward and back throws and lashing out with crisp f-airs and other quick attacks until he’d regained his foothold. As he fought, his face began to flush, a film of sweat bathed him, his mouth rounded, his eyes sparkled, he breathed rhythmically—and it was just like old times. Charlie, Lauren and Eden didn’t fail to notice Mario’s sunnier disposition and silently congratulated each other on a job well done.

Peach patted Mario’s hand, and then turned as Vanessa and her kids silently arrived.

“Sorry we’re late,” whispered Vanessa, slipping into a vacant seat near Peach.

“That’s okay,” Peach assured her. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay, I guess,” shrugged Vanessa. “I see Luigi’s doing better.”

“He is,” said Peach. “Those two troublemakers didn’t bring him down for long.”

Vanessa cast a wary glance at Mario. “I hear what happened with him and…”

“Can we not talk about that right now?” Peach politely broke in. “It’s not gonna change the fact that it happened.”

“I guess you’re right,” mused Vanessa.

“Hey, Ethan—is there something you’d like to say to Mario?” asked Peach.

“No,” Ethan said, a little too quickly.

“You’ll have to do it sooner or later,” said Vanessa.

“Do what?” asked Mario, his attention finally arrested. “Oh—hey, Vanessa, Anna, Ethan! It’s so nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you, too,” said Vanessa.

“Hi, Mario!” Anna piped up.

“Hey,” said Ethan.

“So—Ethan has something he’d like to tell me?” asked Mario.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh—I hope you’re doing well, Mario,” he said.

Mario tilted his head and studied the boy curiously. “I’m doing a little better,” he replied.

“Look—I feel bad about the way I acted that day.”

“I’m sure you are,” nodded Mario. “Why was the fact that I lost to Luigi such a big deal to you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Ethan said softly.

“I think you do,” said Mario. “I think it had something to do with Luigi’s combo game.”

“Yes—it did,” Ethan hesitantly admitted.

“What is it with him and his combos? Why is it that people don’t think he deserves them? Is it because he’s…?” He took a deep breath and calmed down. “I think something’s off about that patch, and I’m gonna find out what.”

Vanessa and her children exchanged a look.

“But,” said Mario, “that’s an issue for another time. It’s making me act out and do things I’d never dreamed of doing before. But maybe if you know something, Luigi and I are meeting with someone in twelve days, and you’re welcome to attend.”

“We’ll be happy to,” said Ethan. “I’m—sorry, Mario. Truly I am.”

“Something tells me that I’m gonna hear that a lot,” sighed Mario, “but don’t worry, Ethan. We can start off on a clean slate.”

“I’d really like that,” said Ethan.

He held out his hand, and Mario shook it.

“I think I feel much better now,” smiled Ethan.

Mario smiled back. “You just caught me in a good mood.”

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Vanessa asked her son.

“No,” said Ethan, relieved. “Not at all.”

Peach smiled. “I’m happy you two finally smoothed things out,” she said.

“So am I,” chirped Anna.

“Me, too—one less thing to worry about,” said Mario.

And indeed, it was. Now that Ethan had apologized for real, the man in red could turn all of his energies on rooting out those who might have conspired to get Luigi unjustly nerfed. But the same went for Ethan, as well. The incident was finally behind him, and all the teen had to deal with now was how Mario would react to learning the truth about Project Nerf.

But as Mario said, they’d all worry about that another time.

“Yeah! You’re doing it!” cheered Eden as Luigi sent his opponent flying off the stage.

The man in green stood there, catching his breath, a little surprised that he held a slight advantage. But then again, his win-loss ratio was rapidly improving. He felt like he was letting go of a little bit of his doubts as the hours floated by; he’d gotten off to a slow start, but he was quickly getting the hang of the new mechanics.

And as such, he decided to try something.

At first, when they saw him act, they thought his muscle memory was acting up. But nothing could’ve been further from the truth. Breaths hung in the air as Luigi followed his butt-slammed opponent with a short-hop and followed up with two solid, sharp f-airs!

The opponent hit the ground, a shocked look on their face. “Impossible…” they uttered.

The spectators shared that sentiment, but for a different reason. They all sat in amazement, staring at Luigi, whose facial expression screamed, “I knew it!”

“IT STILL WORKS, PEOPLE!” Peach exclaimed once she found her voice, her statement followed by a round of raucous cheering.

“I can’t believe it,” gasped Mario. “He still has that combo. I thought the nerf…”

“It does put a limit on its viability,” said Lauren. “I think it’ll only work at low percentages.”

She was right. Luigi quickly discovered that once he’d racked up a certain amount of damage to his foe, that old combo was no longer viable. There was also the opponent’s weight and his own percentage to consider. In the wake of the new patch, his d-throw to f-air tended to run hot and cold, but he didn’t despair. He threw a n-air, followed by a b-air, before switching to his newer combos.

“Wow,” murmured Vanessa. _We spent thirty days trying to manipulate Master Hand—all for nothing…_

“I know, right?” asked Peach. “Initially, it appeared that the nerf removed that combo—but Luigi’s had some time since then. And slowly but surely, he’s modifying his toolbox, so to speak.”

“There’s more to Luigi than meets the eye, isn’t there?” asked Vanessa.

“Yes. Yes, there is. He was upset when he got the patch notes, but he’s dusting himself off and moving on.”

_Was it really worth it_? thought Vanessa, exchanging a look with Ethan.

Across from them, the Bennigan Brothers were gob smacked. That combo still worked! Its viability had decreased, but it was still there. Luigi had taken a leap of faith, and boy—it had paid off. They spoke not a word as they watched the man in green continue to negotiate his opponent’s fighting style, flitting and dancing here and there, throwing out fierce strikes and sprinkling in some combos. But the looks they exchanged said everything for them.

There was no denying it anymore. They were all beginning to admire Luigi for refusing to stay down.

And in his usual spot, Mario felt even better. Maybe he _should_ let this go and let MH handle the investigation. He’d read up about it once the Hand of Creation published his report. It wouldn’t change anything, but both he and Luigi would get some satisfaction knowing that those who’d used such dirty tactics would be found out and punished.

“You’ve got this, Luigi,” he whispered, his voice carrying towards the two fighters on the battlefield. “You’ve got this. You’ve got this…”

Hearing his elder brother’s voice always made Luigi feel better. Even after their—altercation—several days ago, he listened for Mario and always made sure to pinpoint him, seated in THAT spot. He was a sense of stability, a rock he clung to with all his strength. Even after they’d butted heads, Luigi wouldn’t let go. He’d never let go.

He did what he could with his modified d-throw to f-air combo, and then he moved onto something else. Instead of a f-air, he threw a series of b-airs, and then a u-air and finally a n-air. He was moving on to more complex combos, those strings he used to pull off before the nerf, and there was nothing stopping him. His opponent was so stunned and flustered that they started making mistakes, running into Luigi’s grab again and again. The next throw was followed by a jump and then a Cyclone. He caught his breath while pulling off some aerial mix-ups and using fast kicks and fireballs to keep his foe off of him. But his foe just kept charging, so Luigi hit him twice with a u-air and then a f-air. At this point, he began to modify his d-throw to f-air—first into a d-throw to f-air to u-air, experimenting with it several times until the timing was just right. And from that came d-throw to triple f-air to u-air to u-tilt and finally double f-air—his longest new combo to date.

The two Steves, meanwhile, were aghast. Thirty days of hard work and tireless lobbying were going to waste! And if they complained about it again, and had Luigi nerfed a second time, then he’d probably bounce back from that, too! Not even what they did to him in the Training Area could deter him. Combined with Chad resisting against CH’s power, Steve and Stevie weren’t having a good day.

But Luigi wasn’t thinking about what happened in the Training Area that day. Nor was he thinking about how some opponents tried to capitalize on his nerf, or Mario’s suspension, or the tiff that night. All he thought about were his new combos, and how they were waiting for him to discover them.

All he thought about was getting back on his feet.

**1.1.1**

“Excuse me, Master Hand?”

MH turned. Mario stood there, his face solemn, his red hat in his hand.

“Oh, hey, Mario!” greeted MH. “I was just about to fetch you.”

“I need to talk to you,” said Mario. “Wanna do lunch? There’s a good pizza place not far from the Smash Mansion.”

“Why, Mario—you had me at ‘pizza’,” said MH. “I’ll meet you outside.”

Mario sighed in relief. “Thank you, MH,” he said.

A few minutes later, the two of them were seated at a private booth, sharing a large pepperoni pizza.

“I’m sorry I took a golf club to your car,” said Mario. “It was immature and wrong, and I really want to earn back your trust.”

“I’m sorry, too,” said MH. “Sorry about the words I said and sorry for throwing your—ordeal—in your face.”

“I was stunned that you’d do that. Because that wasn’t you,” Mario said softly. “Are you feeling all right? I didn’t mean to stress you out.”

“It’s not you,” said MH. “It doesn’t excuse what I said, but I’ve been feeling under the weather lately. And I feel bad that I took it out on you.”

“I feel bad, too, for pressuring you,” said Mario. “We’ll share the blame for this mess. I should’ve known better than to ask you to reveal privileged information. As a matter of fact, I have something that could be of interest.”

“Fire away.”

“The day after—it happened—Link, Zelda and Luigi were having lunch together when they overheard Dorf, Koopa and Wario discussing something.” Mario slid a tape recorder forward. “They recorded everything, and they also took a few pictures. I think these may help in your investigation.”

MH nodded.

“You don’t seem surprised. I take it you’ve already been notified?”

“I wanted to wait until you’ve calmed down before breaking it to you,” explained MH.

“I would’ve waited until I calmed down, too,” mused the portly plumber. “Listen, I really f—ed up, but I wanna make this up to you.”

“You already are,” smiled MH.

“Luigi—found some more stuff, too,” said Mario, giving MH an ordinary-looking bag. “The two of us combed through it the other day. Just between the two of us, I think you should keep a weather eye on those three—and on the two Steves. Something tells me that they were part of it, too.”

“When I have some free time, I will talk to them,” said MH. “Thank you, Mario, for the information and for your apology—and I accept both. But you still have to answer for your actions. Therefore, your suspension remains in effect.”

“I understand,” Mario said quietly.

They finished their lunch and departed for the Smash Mansion together, both thankful to be back on speaking terms.

**1.1.1**

“How’d it go?” asked Luigi as soon as Mario returned.

“Swimmingly. MH and I made up,” said Mario. “I apologized, and he apologized, and as it turns out, he also has the info that you, Zel and Link picked up. He said he was asked not to tell me until I’d had a chance to collect myself.”

“I’m glad you’ve calmed down, Bro,” Luigi said quietly, “because I don’t need you getting yourself in trouble while I’m trying to navigate through this.”

“I know.”

“I still think MH lashing out like that was wrong.”

“It was,” said Mario, “but the two of us managed to talk things out. Just—don’t lose it on him the next time you cross paths, all right?”

Luigi thought it over.

“I can’t promise you anything,” he said finally, “but I’ll try not to tear MH apart. I’m still pretty upset that he did that to you. What you did was wrong, but he had no right to blame you for—that.”

“I feel the same way,” said Mario, “but we needn’t talk about it anymore. It’s water under the bridge now.”

“Okeydokey then,” said Luigi. “Let me ask you something, though. If MH had upset me the way he’d upset you, then would you have let it go so quickly?”

“I…” Mario trailed off. Both brothers knew the answer to that question.

“Can you understand how I feel about his actions?” asked Luigi.

“Absolutely,” said Mario. “Just—don’t do anything _I_ wouldn’t do, all right?”

Luigi smiled. “All right.”

The two of them hugged, deeply and tenderly, whispering affectionate words in each other’s ear. When they separated, Mario studied his baby bro.

“Several times, you’ve asked if we were okay, but now _I_ want to know if we’re okay,” he said.

“Don’t worry,” said Luigi. “We are.”

Exchanging smiles, the bros parted ways. The afternoon matches were about to begin.

**1.1.1**

“You wanted to see me?” asked Dorf as he sat across from MH in the glove’s office.

“Yes,” replied MH, “and Koopa, as well. Where is he?”

“Apologies, Master Hand. He’s out on some urgent business.”

“No matter. I’ll talk to him when he returns.” MH leaned back in his chair. “How was your vacation?”

“Refreshing,” replied Dorf. “Thank you.”

“A lot has happened in your absence,” MH went on. “Many of my Smashers had a lot to say about the playstyle of a certain fighter and other aspects of the tournament. It grew to the point that I had to reach out to Mr. Sakurai and the other suits to get it rectified.”

“I thought I noticed a few changes here,” mused Dorf.

“I’m also beginning to think that my hand was forced—that someone or a group of people conspired to subvert this tournament,” said MH.

“Uh-huh,” said MH.

“_You_ had a few issues with the Smasher in question, as I recall.”

“Yes, I didn’t like Luigi very much—but I’ve grown to respect him. What—are you saying that Luigi’s being harassed?”

“His down throw made some Smashers upset because he could use it to set up combos. Day after day, people yelled at me in this office about it. And Sakurai seemed all too eager to nerf him. Another Smasher brought their own suspicions to my attention a few days ago.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that, MH—I was clearing my head,” said Dorf.

“Because of said combos, yes?”

“Uh—yes,” admitted Dorf. “Look, I’ve got nothing to hide. You can ask me anything.”

“That’s good to know, because I really hope you can explain _this_,” MH said cryptically, sliding a tape recorder forward and pressing “play”.

It was Dorf’s gloating session with Koopa and Wario at the café. Dorf managed to keep his facial features composed as he listened.

“You should really know better than to talk about things like that in public areas,” chided MH.

“Who…?”

“I believe that’s none of your concern,” said MH. “What _is_ your concern, however, is the fact that the three of you were probably involved in some scheme to manipulate me. I do not like being manipulated or taken advantage of.”

“It was best for this tournament,” argued Dorf.

“Best for this tournament—or best for you?” challenged MH. “Your conversation also named a few other Smashers: Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle and Falco, and believe me, I will discuss this with them, as well. The more you keep from me, the worse it’ll be for you. So, my question to you is—who are the Bennigan Brothers, and did they do this because I expelled one of their own?”

“This wasn’t about Stu. In fact, he feels bad over what he did in the past and hopes you can give him a second chance. This was only about that down throw. We were frustrated and sick of those combos and…”

“What of Wario’s club?”

“I know nothing about that. You know what? I betrayed my friend before, and by Din, I won’t do it again.”

“If you, Koopa and Wario work with me, then your punishment won’t be as severe,” said MH. “I’ve promised leniency to those who voluntarily come forward.”

“I’m not a rat, Master Hand. I am a king.” Dorf rose from his seat. “If you talk to Koopa and Wario, then they’ll tell you that what you heard on that tape was taken out of context.”

“In other words, you deny being involved in this?”

“Yeah—it looks that way,” Dorf said casually.

“How long do you think it’ll take for me to uncover all of the sordid details?” asked MH.

“I neither know nor care.”

“You _should_ care, because once I find out that you and the Smashers brought up in your gloat-fest were without a doubt involved in this, you’ll really have it coming.”

“Good luck,” snickered Dorf. “We destroyed all of the evidence. It’ll be your word against ours.”

“That never stopped me,” said MH.

“Master Hand—you have no idea who you’re dealing with,” warned Dorf.

“Do _you_?” MH shot back. “I can’t wait to hear what the others will say about this.”

Dorf stared hard at MH before turning around and striding away.

Nearby, CH listened in on the conversation, a diabolical expression beginning to cross his features…

**1.1.1**

Dorf went straight to his room, closing and locking the door behind him, and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the ceiling and gathering his thoughts. Then, he went to work.

Firing up his computer, he retrieved, printed out and then deleted all of the chat transcripts involving him and the Bennigan Brothers before organizing the printed copies into a hidden safe. Then, he searched his room for any documents, photos and other media that could incriminate him and his buddies, and neatly arranged them into the safe, as well. After closing and locking the safe, Dorf slipped the combination into a hidden pocket of his outfit before relaxing on the bed. How could MH have found out…?

A car horn honked outside.

Dorf was at the window in one leap. Parked near the entrance to the Smash Mansion was a flashy-looking convertible. Koopa sat at the wheel, smiling at him.

Snatching up his sword, Dorf exited his room, headed downstairs and pushed through the double doors leading out of the Smash Mansion. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” replied Koopa. “What do you think?”

“That’s a pretty sweet ride,” said Dorf.

“What do you say for a spin in this baby?” asked Koopa.

“Might as well,” said Dorf, chucking his sword into the backseat and leaping into the front passenger seat.

“Ready?” asked Koopa once his friend had buckled his seatbelt.

“Ready,” said Dorf.

Koopa shifted the car into drive and hammered down. With a squeal of tires, the convertible lit out of the Smash Mansion, headed for the open road.

A familiar elf and an even more familiar plumber raced out onto the curb where the vehicle had been seconds ago.

“D—mit!” snapped Mario.

Link put a hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll get them.”

Mario nodded distractedly, fished out his cell phone and dialed, with Link following suit.

Koopa and Dorf, meanwhile, smirked at the image of their archnemeses in the rearview mirror as the convertible sped further away. The latter leaned back and enjoyed the ride, while the former expertly guided his car down the darkened streets, the wind blowing through their hair and swishing Dorf’s cape, the smiles never leaving their faces.

“I think someone listened in on our talk at the café,” Dorf said after a while.

“I’ve heard,” said Koopa.

“MH talked to you, too?”

Koopa nodded.

“I didn’t tell him too much.”

“I know; that’s not your style. And neither did I,” Koopa assured him.

“What do you think of this? Should we be worried?” asked Dorf.

“Not at all,” said Koopa.

“Should we—tell him?”

Koopa chewed his bottom lip. “Truth is—I’m starting to feel bad about doing that to Green ’St—Luigi,” he said. “I didn’t want those two Steves beating him up. I just wanted—a better chance of winning. But MH is right. He’ll find out eventually. And I think he should find out from us.”

“I told him that I wasn’t about to turn on you a second time,” said Dorf.

“Aw, Dorf. That’s in the past, remember?”

“I still feel bad about it,” Dorf said softly, “and in the end, it was all for nothing. We’d been played from beginning to end. That only makes it worse.”

“Dorf, old pal—would you stop beating yourself up over that?” asked Koopa. “I forgave you, didn’t I? Life moved on, didn’t it? Look at all of the adventures ahead of us! Are you gonna miss out on them because of something that happened seven years ago?”

“Absolutely not,” replied Dorf. “Wait—adventures? What are you talking about?”

“Dorf—I’m planning something big, and I want you to be a part of it,” explained Koopa, “and no, it’s not related to this down throw drama.”

“Is it—Peach related?”

“You bet it is! I have something special in store for her—something I’ve spent years working on.”

“Well, then—out with it!”

Koopa grinned. “I’m gonna tie the knot with her!”

“_What?!_ No way!” bellowed Dorf. “It was about time!”

“Unfortunately, I don’t have everything ready yet,” said Koopa. “Give it about two more years. But—I would be honored if you’d be my best man.”

“Wha—wow…” breathed Dorf. “I’d never thought I’d see this day! Of course, I’ll be your best man! Tell me what you need, and I’ll hire caterers and the whole nine yards.”

“You’re too kind, but I’ve already hired a team of professional wedding planners,” said Koopa. “No offense.”

“None taken. I know how special Peach is to you,” said Dorf. “You only want the finest for her. But really—you’re not gonna brainwash her or find some leverage to use?”

“No!” Koopa looked horrified at the idea. “You think I’m that kind of villain? But how about you? Have you ever dreamed of marrying Zellie?”

“Ah—not yet,” said Dorf. “Maybe after I conquer all of Hyrule, though. Koopa—this is wonderful news!”

“First, we have to get MH and those plumbers off our backs,” said Koopa. “Remember—I got that note last night.”

“Yeah—Mario’s giving me looks, and don’t get me started on Link. Which gives me an idea—maybe one of them eavesdropped on us.”

“If you really want to make magic happen, then we should consult Crazy Hand,” said Koopa. “He’ll pull through for us; I know he will. Oh—I forgot to tell you. CH contributed to the plan from the side. He helped arranged the meetings and put us up in style at fancy hotels. And he gave a big push in pointing MH and Sakurai in each other’s directions.”

“At least nobody knows about that,” sighed Dorf.

“Yet,” said Koopa, “but I know he’s determined to protect this secret. Maybe that can help us.”

“Maybe,” echoed Dorf.

The two stopped at a 24-hour diner and ordered some food. While they waited, Koopa pulled out his phone.

CH answered on the first ring.

“We’ve got trouble,” said Koopa.

“I overheard everything,” said CH. “Don’t worry; countermeasures have already been arranged.”

“Countermeasures? Wha…?”

“Just leave everything to me,” CH said cryptically before hanging up.

“What did he say?” asked Dorf.

Koopa gave Dorf a look. “Sometimes,” he said, “I wonder if accepting his help with this venture was a good idea.”


	10. T Plus 9 Days

Loud music broke into the room, starting the four men awake.

“Crazy Hand!” shouted Jimmy after recovering his bearings. “Do you mind? We’re having a slumber party here.”

“Well—party time’s over,” CH sang out, “and it’s time to do your duty.”

“Do you know what time it is?” groaned Remy. “It’s only five in the morning. They haven’t even prepared breakfast yet.”

Timmy mumbled something inarticulate.

“All the better time to debrief you, right?” asked CH.

“Debrief? Isn’t MH responsible for that?” Rory wanted to know.

“I am the assistant master of ceremonies, and by extension, also your employer,” said CH, “so I have every privilege to debrief you as him, ’kay?”

“I—guess that makes sense,” said a still-drowsy Timmy.

“Right you are, Timmy!” chirped CH. “I’ll give you some time to freshen up, and then you all can meet me in the office!”

With a final smile, CH teleported out.

After exchanging puzzled looks, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory picked themselves up. One by one, they went into Jimmy’s bathroom to gargle with mouthwash, shave, wash their faces and shower. Thirty minutes later, the quartet was attired in suits and striding purposefully toward CH’s office.

“Looking good, guys!” said CH when the foursome entered.

“All right, CH,” said Timmy. “What’s so important that you had to drag us out of bed at five in the morning?”

CH served them some coffee as he spoke. “It involves a certain man in red,” he said.

“Mario?” asked Jimmy. “Last I checked, he’s settled down.”

“But my bro didn’t ask you to stop keeping tabs on him, did he?” asked CH.

“No,” said the four men.

“What did he do now?” asked Rory.

“It’s not about what he did—it’s about what he _could_ do next,” warned CH.

“How do you know he’s planning something?” Remy wanted to know.

“I don’t!” CH said cheerfully.

“I…” said Jimmy. “I don’t follow. What do you want us to do?”

“I want the four of you to pay him a _friendly_ little visit and _persuade_ him to play nice with our dear MH from now on,” cooed CH. “Plain and simple.”

The foursome’s eyes lit up. They knew _exactly_ what CH was talking about. And frankly, they were still quite steamed from the car incident.

Well—to varying degrees.

“Whoa, whoa—wait a minute,” said Timmy, the first to snap himself out of it. “Mario apologized to your brother yesterday. Didn’t you hear? They talked it all out over some pizza.”

“There comes a time when everyone must answer for their mistakes,” CH said, a little ominously, “even a hero like Mario.”

CH’s words drew Timmy back into his web. “I agree,” the young man said finally.

“So—how are we gonna do this?” asked Jimmy, itching for action.

“Lure him into a false sense of security—and then pounce!” instructed CH. “Just like what he did to those poor, defenseless guys five days ago! Karma’s a [bleep], and Mario’s gonna find out the hard way!”

The four men nodded, their faces set.

CH motioned for them to huddle, and then he began to whisper…

**1.1.1**

An hour later, the four of them sat in the cafeteria, silently eating their food, their gazes drilled into Mario.

“We’ll have to get Luigi and Peach away from him first,” said Rory.

“After breakfast, he usually spends some time in his room getting ready,” said Jimmy. “We’ll strike then.”

Remy nodded. “It’s about time we had some action.”

Timmy said nothing.

“Everything okay, Tim-Tim?” asked Jimmy.

“Do you really think this’ll work?” asked Timmy.

“CH is sure it does,” said Remy.

“Why choose violence, though?” asked Timmy.

“Mario chose violence,” said Rory. “He chose violence when he viciously assaulted those two men, and he chose violence when he took a golf club to MH’s car.”

“He still apologized,” said Timmy.

“It just isn’t enough, Timbo,” sighed Jimmy. “It just isn’t enough.”

Timmy’s face slowly hardened. “No,” he said. “It isn’t.”

Meanwhile, Luigi tapped Mario on the shoulder. “Those four guys have been staring at you since you sat down,” he whispered.

“They’ve been watching me since I first came to MH,” Mario whispered back. “We made up somewhat, but I’m still convinced that there’s something he doesn’t want me to find out.”

“He doesn’t want _us_ to find out,” Luigi corrected him. “We’re in this together, Mario.”

“Luigi…” breathed Mario, but the younger bro gave him a look signifying that he wouldn’t budge from this.

“I may not agree with what you’re doing,” said Luigi, “but I want answers about this as much as you. And—I’m not letting you do this alone. If you got hurt…”

“Bro—I don’t deserve your help. Not after what I said…”

His voice broke, and Luigi took Mario in his arms. The smaller man was shuddering with sobs, the leftover regret seeping from him.

“You didn’t mean it,” he said softly. “I knew something was wrong, but—I was more upset at the fact that you wouldn’t tell me…”

He breathed shakily, a few tears escaping him, as well.

“And I know why, but still—we’re brothers. We have to protect each other, look out for each other.”

Mario managed a smile. “We’ve done that since we were kids,” he said.

“And we shouldn’t stop now,” said Luigi. “I didn’t think you should’ve forgiven MH so easily, especially since he threw THAT in your face, but it’s a choice I’ll respect. When Falco blew up at me, you advised me against reconciling with him, but we wound up in that elevator and I just—wanted to take the high road. And if I could take the high road with Falco, then I can do the same with MH.”

“You’re still angry with him,” realized Mario.

Luigi nodded. “Why would he do that, why would he say that…?”

“That wasn’t him. It was like—he was someone else. But if you do something stupid—something you’ll regret, like I did…”

“I won’t,” swallowed Luigi. “I swear to you, I won’t.”

Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory also found themselves in tears, moved by the scene they were witnessing. They almost felt awful about the task CH had charged to them.

Almost.

After the four men finished their breakfast and disposed of what was left, they ran to the bathroom to take a tension dump. Finally, it was time.

Their mouths were matching hard lines as they jogged in a single file line toward Mario’s room, ignoring the stares from the Smashers around them.

“Is everything all right?” Peach asked when she saw them.

“There’s no need for alarm, Princess,” Timmy said gently. “Everything’s fine.”

Peach wasn’t convinced as she watched the quartet race up the stairs. She knew exactly where they were headed.

On the next floor, the four men came upon Lauren.

“Is he still in his room?” asked Remy.

“Yeah. Is he in trouble?” asked Lauren, narrowing her eyes.

“No,” Jimmy assured her. “We just need to talk to him.”

“Wha…?” gasped Lauren as the four continued on.

Meanwhile, Peach was on her cell phone, scrolling down her contact list and selecting the one she was looking for.

“Hey, Mario,” she said. “The four guys who’ve been watching you lately—they’re on their way up there. And they _don’t_ look happy.”

“Thank you. Don’t worry.”

When they were halfway to Mario’s room, the foursome called CH.

“Everything’s going according to plan,” said Jimmy.

“Excellent,” said CH. “If you can, try to avoid the face. We don’t want anyone asking questions.”

“What if we can’t?” asked Rory.

“If you can’t, then you can’t. I certainly won’t blame you for tarnishing his good looks. It’ll serve him right for what he did to my brother and the two Steves.”

“Roger that,” said Remy. Turning to his colleagues, he stated, “Let’s do this, boys.”

At the door to Mario’s room, the quartet paused.

“I’ve got this,” said Timmy before knocking on the door.

“Mario,” he said. “You in there?”

“Who is it?” asked Mario.

“Timmy and Jimmy and Remy and Rory. Please, open this door. Master Hand and Crazy Hand’s orders.”

A pause. Then, the door opened, revealing Mario, dressed and ready for action.

“Will this take long?” the plumber calmly asked.

“No, Mario,” said Timmy. “You have our word.”

Staring hard at them, Mario moved aside so that the quartet could enter.

Jimmy was the last to enter, closing and locking the door behind him.

Methodically, the four arranged themselves into a circle around Mario. They stood in a commanding, intimidating stance, faces flint and feet shoulder-width apart. Blue eyes flicked from one man to the other, gaze calm, breathing steady. It was almost as if he’d been expecting them—

“Before we get started,” Mario said coolly. “Would any of you like to get out?”

Silence hung, save for the sound of five hearts beating. Four pairs of eyes drilled steadily into a fifth, defiant pair. The four men visibly saw their target’s muscles tense and his face set as he prepared for a fight.

Immersed in a state of hyper-awareness, Mario heard the distinctive _swish_ of a nightstick being drawn and whirled on Jimmy just as the other man lunged at him.

The man in red blocked the nightstick as it descended toward his face before sending his fist into Jimmy’s handsome mug, hitting home with a satisfying _crack_.

At that, the other three dived into the fray, charging Mario at once. Fluidly, Mario sidestepped, blocked and ducked under their swings, and then Jimmy recovered and tried to attack him again. The portly plumber fought back with his signature brawling style, throwing fierce punches, kicks and elbow strikes and dropping low to attack their footing. He wound up and sent a blast of fire into Rory’s chest before turning around and smashing Timmy in the jaw and throwing a fireball at Remy when he tried to grab him. And then a one-two punch at Jimmy when he also tried to grapple him. Mario then slid between Jimmy and Rory and bolted for the door, hoping to maneuver himself out of a disadvantageous position. Only for one of them to grab him by the back of his right overall strap and drag him back.

Mario slammed his elbow into the attacker, following up with a short hop f-air, and just barely evaded a nightstick to the face. He swept his legs about, sending all four men stumbling, but Timmy managed to catch his ankle, roughly sending the hero in red to the ground.

Instinctively, the plumber guarded his face, but the first blow slammed into his side, sending a shock of pain sizzling down his nerves and tearing the breath from his lungs. Reflexively, he cradled the affected area, leaving his face wide open. Coldly and methodically, the blows fell, sending flashes of white before Mario’s eyes.

“We’re doing this for your own good, Mario!” he heard one of them say.

The heavy blows kept coming, targeting the rest of his body, and Mario had enough. Generating a large, hot fireball, he hurled it at the first man he saw, and while the others were distracted, knocked them off their feet and got back up, wincing slightly as he did.

Remy was the first to recover, letting out a yell as he rushed at Mario. The latter calmly dodged his swings, closed in and dealt out several good ones to the point of the chin before grabbing his arm and touching a fiery finger to his weapon, forcing him to drop it as he yelped in pain. Finally, Mario kicked him in the stomach, sending him into a wall, and palmed the weapon, bringing it to his face in a defensive stance.

Rory, Timmy and Jimmy exchanged a look before going at Mario anew. First, Mario parried the blows as if he was using a sword, and then began to take a more offensive stance, sending his new weapon flying anywhere he saw an opening. A shoulder. An arm. A nose. A center of mass. Jimmy found himself winded with a blow to the gut. Rory and Timmy got in a few shots to Mario’s already bruised side, but Mario quickly turned the tide, striking Rory twice in the ribs, landing a blow on his left knee and then his right knee for good measure. Rory crumpled to the floor, cursing in pain.

“Whoa, there, Jumpman,” said Timmy as the two circled each other. “I just want you to know—this isn’t personal.”

In a fluid movement, he managed to strip Mario of his weapon, and then he got in a good blow to the abdomen. Mario doubled over, gasping, and Timmy discarded his own weapon before punching his opponent thrice in the face and landing several body blows. But Mario recovered, wrestled him to the floor and pummeled him with elbow strikes until he was dazed and bleeding.

“It kinda feels personal,” said Mario before turning and limping out of the room, leaving the four men groaning on the ground.

CH teleported into the room. “Hey!” he shouted. “Don’t let him get away!”

The glove cast some healing magic over the quartet, and they leaped to their feet, reinvigorated and ready for round two.

“With me!” shouted Jimmy, the four of them racing out of the room in pursuit of the plumber.

“I think we should split up,” Rory said after they’d burst out of the corridor. “We have a better chance of surprising him.”

Jimmy beamed. “Good idea,” he said.

When they reached the lobby, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory did a hand-stack before scattering in different directions.

Mario, meanwhile, had increased his pace from a limp to a brisk walk. There was only one reason those four guys had ambushed him—Master Hand. He’d pretended to want an olive branch to get him to lower his guard, and then sent in his four lackeys to catch him unawares. There was no doubt about it now—that glove knew something and didn’t want to tell him.

_Maybe there’s a reason,_ he thought, but his blood was once again boiling. Whatever MH knew, Mario deserved to know! But what if he’d gotten in more trouble by snooping around? He took a second to ponder over Luigi’s words. How could he protect and defend his little brother if he was expelled from Smash? They’d clashed that night because Mario’s actions had Luigi worried sick for him. And the last thing Mario wanted was for Luigi to worry.

_How do I even know MH is behind this stunt?_ Because he didn’t. He really didn’t. And if he confronted MH with blind assumptions and no hard facts, he could risk getting himself in more trouble for no reason. _Maybe those four acted on their own, angry about that car. But they said “Master Hand and Crazy Hand’s orders” when they made me open my door to them. Were they lying? Or did one of those Hands have something to do with it?_

He had no time to dwell on it further. When Mario turned a corner, Remy was waiting for him.

“Hello, buddy,” the other man said ominously.

Mario’s reflexes just weren’t fast enough, Remy nailing him with one whale of a punch which sent him onto his back. Remy stepped toward him, letting his three companions know via walkie-talkie that he’d found the man in red. As quickly as he could, Mario rolled back to a standing position and threw a rock-hard punch of his own, connecting with Remy’s gut. Remy swung back, but Mario blocked and wrenched Remy’s arm counterclockwise until he heard a series of brittle cracks. With his other hand, Mario hit his opponent with blow after blow, and then used Remy’s arm as a fulcrum to perform a judo flip. He straddled Remy then, raining down more punches, only to be stopped by a roundhouse from Remy’s good arm.

Leaping to his feet, Mario sent a searing blast of fire at Remy and retreated, knowing that the other three were looking for him and that he couldn’t hold out forever against these muscular men, due to his short stature. If Peach hadn’t warned him—he didn’t allow himself to finish the thought.

He whirled just as Timmy rushed him from the side, stopping the charge with a forward smash and then knocking out a handful of coins with an uppercut.

Timmy got to his feet. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

Mario aimed a punch, but Timmy easily blocked it and punched back. On the floor, Mario did his breakdancing attack and flip-kicked Timmy in the face, but Timmy was one tough customer. The two of them exchanged blows back and forth, Timmy managing to blast Mario a few times in the solar plexus and the jaw. Still, Mario kept getting up, refusing to let this guy intimidate him. Switching to another tactic, Mario grappled with Timmy, headbutted him a few times and then swung him around thrice, sending him crashing into a wall like with Remy earlier.

“Nice talk,” said Mario before continuing his flight.

At a doorway, he paused to catch his breath and tend to his wounds. Luckily, they were just bruises, nothing serious—yet. He wiped the blood from his mouth and nose and popped a Mushroom into his mouth. Then, he slumped down into a sitting position, contemplating his next move.

“Maybe if I went to him calmly about this…” he murmured. He’d go to MH’s office and tell him that four men claiming to act on his behalf had demanded to be let inside his room, and then attacked him. He wouldn’t make any accusations or start wildly postulating. All he’d do is state the facts. And then he’d ask him not to make it public. Because if Luigi found out…

Sighing, Mario got up and headed toward MH’s office, only to be tackled by Rory and Jimmy!

“You’re coming with us, Mario,” said Jimmy as he and Rory hauled the struggling plumber to his feet and dragged him back.

With a twist, Mario broke free, kicked Rory hard in the groin and then punched Jimmy twice in the jaw. Unfortunately for him, both recovered rather quickly and tossed him into an empty lounge area.

Timmy and Remy were already waiting for him.

_How did they…?_ thought Mario.

The man in red once again found himself circled by four muscular, wired and quite p—ed off men.

“What do you want?” he barked. “Why are you doing this?”

“We care about you, Mario,” said Rory. “We really do. We just don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in official business or destroying property.”

“I apologized, didn’t I?”

“Yes, well,” Jimmy smiled thinly. “‘Sorry’ just won’t cut it.”

The four men dashed in at once, but Mario wasn’t going down without a fight. He dodged, ducked and deflected fists and nightsticks before dishing out as much as he was given, kicking, punching and throwing fireballs with all his might. But his enviable strength and pyrokinesis slowly became overwhelmed by numbers, and it wasn’t long before Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory had Mario cornered. Their blows continued to fly from all directions, and now the man in red was in bad trouble. Covered in bruises, an eye swelling up, tasting his own blood, Mario tried to ignore the pain and lash back, his efforts growing increasingly futile. With each man he fended off, two more set upon him. His strength ebbed, and he sank to one knee. But even then, he kept on fighting. He might be small, and he might be just a plumber—but he was gonna remind them why Peach regarded him as her people’s best protector.

“Don’t you guys think he’s had enough?” asked Timmy after a while. Mario was now reduced to taking swipes at the quartet, swipes they could easily block. But he was in a really, REALLY bad way. Blood and sweat seeped down his face, and there were bruises, swelling and contusions everywhere. Mario’s breath was labored, and he _sounded_ in pain. But he wouldn’t give up, wouldn’t surrender, wouldn’t bow.

“Our orders weren’t to kill him,” Timmy went on. “I think we can stop now.”

“No, way, Timbo, we’re doing this,” crowed Rory. “We’re gonna [bleep] him up so badly that his beloved Peach won’t recognize him. Jimbo—stand him up.”

Jimmy was more than happy to oblige, grabbing Mario and roughly yanking him up, holding him round the waist while the smaller man struggled.

Rory didn’t hesitate then, his fists smashing like hammers into Mario’s torso and chin.

“For C—st’s sake, he can barely stand!” exclaimed Timmy.

“Let me in on some of that!” laughed Remy, ignoring his colleague and launching a spinning heel kick into Mario’s face. Timmy winced as bone crunched. He was starting to regret his role in this nonsense.

“Look at Nintendo’s mascot now!” sneered Remy as he kicked Mario again, this time in the solar plexus. “Not so high-and-mighty now, are you?”

“God—mit, now you’re sounding like Steve and Stevie!” warned Timmy, but his words went unheeded.

“Steve and Stevie worked your brother over really good,” chuckled Rory. “Where were you when he needed you, huh?” He laughed as he punched Mario relentlessly.

_He’s right. I wasn’t there. I’m a failure. A f—ing failure. I let a stupid ghost shove me into a f—ing portrait and subjected my bro to a s—ton of trauma when he went to rescue me. I’m the reason Dimentio tried to corrupt him with the Chaos Heart. Some brother _I_ am—_

“‘Super Mario’? What’s super about you?” Remy giggled sadistically. “You can’t keep your woman safe for five minutes before that turtle runs off with her. And who knows? Maybe she secretly prefers him over you and is just keeping up the charade for your pleasure. You think she’s always in a cage when you show up? Don’t you remember that castles have bedchambers? And I’m betting that those bedchambers see a lot of action when Koopa has your Peach over.” He punctuated his words with a blinding punch to the face.

Still holding Mario, Jimmy was also starting to get uneasy. “Whoa, hey—take it easy,” he said. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

“It is now,” Rory snapped as he and Remy took turns punching and kicking Mario.

“Think about what you’re doing!” pleaded Timmy, but Rory and Remy were too absorbed to care anymore.

And then—Mario just—gave up. Went limp. The fight had gone out of him; Rory and Remy’s words had pierced their target. Why should he keep fighting? It’s not like it’s actually doing anything. Koopa will still show up and snatch Peach every week or every day or _whatever_. He’s constantly let her down, let her kingdom down. _Maybe she’s better off with Koopa. He’s strong. He’s a loving father. He’ll be a better protector. I’m childish and naïve. What does she see in me?_

And Luigi.

Luigi—

He deserved a better brother than him. He’d let him down countless times, too.

_I’m sorry, Luigi. I’m sorry, Peachy—_

Limp in Jimmy’s arms, he let Remy and Rory do their worst, the pain from their blows hardly registering anymore, taken over by a worse pain—the pain of their words and the truth they carried. They laughed and jeered and mocked him as tears rolled down his face and Timmy desperately shouted at them to stop. Jimmy stood there, conflicted. What Mario did with the car and with the two Steves was wrong, but this—this was borderline disproportionate!

The man in red slumped in Jimmy’s grip. Remorsefully, Jimmy released his hold, allowing Mario to sink to his knees. His head bowed, and his body shook. Bloody snot seeped from his nose as bloody drool dribbled from his mouth.

“Look what you did,” Timmy gasped. “_Look what you did_! I knew we shouldn’t have signed on for this!”

“What do you mean, Timbo? He deserved all of it, and then some,” spat Remy.

Glaring at Mario, he growled, “You’re just a sad, strange little man who imperils everyone you encounter. Don’t ever forget that.”

“No. He’s not.”

The four men turned at the sound of the soft voice. Mario raised his head, hope dispelling the storm clouds of dread.

“Impossible…” gasped Remy.

Luigi stood there, accessing the scene before him. His big bro, kneeling on the floor, physically and emotionally beaten and bleeding. Those four men, sporting bruised and bloodied knuckles. It didn’t take an elderly paranormal researcher to figure out what was going on.

“Just—what do you think you’re doing?” Luigi asked, calmly and evenly, a sure sign that the men had made a terrible mistake.

“Nothing to see here, Luigi,” said Rory, slipping back into an air of professionalism. “Just official business. As you were.”

“Luigi…” breathed Mario.

Luigi’s eyes flickered to him, drinking in the fact that he was in bad shape. They’d went to town on not only his body but also his spirit. _They’d made him cry_. And he’d overheard the horrific, cruel things Rory and Remy said. The light was barely flickering in Mario’s eyes; it was up to him to keep it alight—

“I said—_as you were_,” said Rory. His tone had turned ominous.

Luigi’s eyes snapped back to meet Rory’s. His decision was made.

“No, buddy,” he said, his voice low and his eyes narrowing. “You leave him alone.”

Rory grinned. “Very well, then. Looks like it’s two for the price of one.”

He was fast. Luigi was faster.

In fact, Rory had barely begun to swing at the man in green when Luigi grabbed his wrist, pulled him forward and punished him with a vicious body shot. Rory sagged over with a gasp, and Luigi followed up with another awesome blow which sent his head snapping back. Tightening his grip on Rory’s wrist, Luigi violently wrenched the entire arm, the sounds of snapping, popping and dislocating oh-so-satisfying for both Bros to hear.

Mario beamed, that light returning to his eyes. “You four are totally f—ed now,” he said calmly.

Luigi punched Rory four more times before dropping him, checking his pulse to make sure he was still alive. Remy let out a yell and barreled toward the plumber, but Luigi simply tossed Mario a Super Mushroom without even breaking his gaze. Then, he coolly engaged Remy, speaking not a word as his blows flew and landed with icy precision. Remy crumpled to his knees, overwhelmed by the volley of fierce blows.

Resolved anew, Mario rose to his feet. He wasn’t some “sad, strange little man”. He was somebody’s protector. He was somebody’s brother. And now—said somebody could use his help.

“Hey, Jimmy,” he said.

Jimmy turned.

Mario swung a vicious haymaker punch into his face. Jimmy staggered back, and Mario went at him again and again until he had him trapped against a wall, driving his fist into him over and over. Once Jimmy was no longer a threat, Mario stormed over to Remy, who’d managed to catch Luigi off guard, grabbed him by the back of his shirt collar and yanked him off his baby bro. From there, the Mario Bros double teamed Remy, assailing him on all sides with punches, kicks and knifehand strikes. To finish, Mario grabbed Remy, swung him around thrice and tossed him toward Luigi, who dealt out a devastating Super Jump Punch, sending Remy smashing into the ceiling and then back down.

“Mario!” cried Luigi. “Are you all right?!”

“I am now, Luigi,” said Mario as the two embraced. “I am now.”

They separated and then glared daggers at Timmy, who held up his hands in surrender.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t approve of this from the get-go,” he said, “and Remy and Rory just took it way too far.”

“What do you mean by that?” Luigi wanted to know.

“I…” Timmy took a step back, and then turned and fled, ashamed.

“Yeah, you’d better run!” Luigi snapped after him. “Oh, Mario—don’t listen to them, understand? You may not be perfect, but you’re _my_ hero.”

“_Io so, Luigi. Io so._”

They hugged again before walking out of the room, hand-in hand.

**1.1.1**

“J—s C—st, you had one job,” huffed Crazy Hand as the foursome sat in his office. “Only one job!”

“We didn’t count on some unexpected help arriving,” said Remy. “Luigi showed up.”

“So I heard,” said CH.

“And before that, it appears that Mario was warned well in advance,” said Rory.

Timmy just sat there, guilt-stricken.

Glaring at Remy and Rory, Jimmy spoke. “I’m afraid things—escalated, Crazy Hand,” he said.

“I saw everything,” said CH. “And I don’t blame them.”

“What? Are you serious?” balked Timmy. “Do you know what they said to him?”

“At first, I went along, but then those two just took it too far,” said Jimmy. “Look, for all I care, Mario was going about his own business when we encountered him. He made a mistake, but he’s atoning for it, and he’s trying to work with your brother here. Give him some credit, for God’s sake!”

“He thinks he’s invincible to the rules, but you reminded him otherwise,” purred CH. “Thank you, gentlemen. You will be generously rewarded.”

Timmy and Jimmy felt sick. Remy and Rory traded ambiguous looks.

“What is going on?” asked MH as he barged into the room.

“These four were going about their own business when Mario ambushed and attacked them,” said CH, taking charge of the situation.

“It’s funny you should say that, my dear Crazy Hand,” said MH, “because one of my Smashers just told me that it was the other way around. That these four gentlemen went into Mario’s room and attacked him unprovoked.”

“Who told you that?” asked CH.

“I’m afraid that’s none of your concern,” MH said smartly. “What _is_ your concern is the can of worms this action has opened. There was no need to antagonize Mario—we made up yesterday.”

“That’s what I told them, Master Hand,” said Timmy.

CH sighed. “I did it to protect you,” he said finally.

MH was in shock. “_You_ told them to do this?”

“Yes,” CH confessed.

“How could you?” MH wanted to know, “and what made you think you even had the authority?”

“Look, I’m scared, okay?” said CH, his voice shaking. “He attacked you, and it’s my job to come to your defense—like any brother would.”

“He knocked out the windows and headlights of my car,” said MH. “It’s not like I can’t repair the damage.”

“Yeah, but what if he’d directly gone after you next? I couldn’t take that risk!” argued CH.

MH softened slightly. “Oh, Crazy Hand—I get that you’re looking out for me, and I appreciate that. But there could’ve been another way. Why didn’t you just—talk to him?”

The four men looked at their feet.

“Well…” CH cleared his throat. “I didn’t want to seriously injure him. I only wanted to scare him. So he wouldn’t be tempted to act like that again.”

“Well, you d—n near succeeded,” snapped Timmy. “Toward the end, Remy and Rory escalated it.”

“What?” MH whipped toward Rory and Remy, who tried to evade his gaze.

“Mario was barely able to stand at that point, but those two decided to twist the knife,” Timmy angrily went on. And he told MH what the two of them had said to Mario, puncturing his spirit and bruising his confidence.

“Is—is this true?” MH gasped in disbelief.

“Master Hand, if I may…” Rory began.

“No, you may not,” MH cut him off, “because not only have you compromised the integrity of this tournament by harassing one of my top Smashers, you have also painted a target on my back. I’m docking your pay for two weeks, and you also owe Mario an apology.”

“Luigi, too,” Jimmy said solemnly. “He walked in on the tail end of it.”

“I shall speak with them both regarding this incident,” said MH, “and given what’s happened previously…”

“I’ll come with you,” CH broke in.

“Wha…”

“I made the mess,” CH said softly. “I need to clean it up. They were acting on my orders—mostly. What Remy and Rory did wasn’t among those orders.”

“My dear Crazy Hand,” said MH. “I’ll take care of it. But I’d also appreciate it if you confess your role in this to the Mario Bros and apologize.”

“Will do,” CH said solemnly.

“Wow,” said Remy. “Now, I feel awful.”

“Me, too,” said Rory. “We really messed up, MH. Please, forgive us.”

“Just apologize,” MH said softly, “and all will be forgiven.”

On that note, he floated back to his office.

**1.1.1**

With a sigh, Master Hand closed the door behind him. But before he could process what he’d just found out, he was confronted with two unexpected visitors.

The Mario Bros stood before him, looking sufficiently battered, Mario leaning on Luigi for support. Both of them glared venomously at the Hand of Creation.

MH steeled himself. “Look,” he said, “I just found out what happened…”

“Did you, Master Hand?” Luigi broke in. “Did you? Those four put my bro through a lot of b.s. Do you have any idea what they did, what they said…?”

“Yes. They told me everything,” said MH. “You’ve got to believe me, I had no part in this. Why would I want to hurt one of my Smashers?”

“Maybe because there’s something you don’t want me to know,” Mario said tersely.

“Oh, dear God—this again?” huffed MH.

“Yesterday, you made false gestures of peace toward me, and then you stabbed me in the back,” accused Mario, “and that _hurts_.”

“I’m telling you, I didn’t give the order,” said MH.

“Then why did they say ‘Master Hand and Crazy Hand’s orders’ when they demanded that I let them in my room?” Mario wanted to know.

“They lied. I didn’t tell them to go into your room and attack you.”

“No, you didn’t. You had CH do it for you,” Luigi said. “Nice to know you care about each other so much.”

“Luigi, that’s ridiculous. I didn’t tell CH to do anything for me. All of that was him and him only—except for the part where Remy and Rory said those horrible things. I’ve already penalized them, by the way. Two weeks of docked pay.”

“Okay, well—if you weren’t part of this, then why would Crazy Hand sic those four on me?” Mario wanted to know.

“They call him Crazy Hand for a reason, Mario,” sighed MH.

“Maybe _he’s_ hiding something,” said Luigi.

MH frowned.

“Maybe you should pay some attention to your dear twin brother during your investigation,” Luigi pointedly went on.

“He _has_ been acting a bit strange lately,” offered MH. “If he’s been scheming behind my back—then why?”

The Bros exchanged a look.

“You guys can’t possibly think…” spluttered MH.

“I don’t know if it has anything to do with my nerf,” said Luigi, “but whatever secrets he’s keeping—he’ll do anything to ensure they stay hidden.”

“Maybe he knows the people who spent last month yelling about you,” said Mario.

“Maybe,” echoed Luigi before the Bros looked at MH.

“And not only that,” added Mario. “Maybe CH knows that some Smashers had plotted to manipulate you into nerfing my bro. Maybe—he was in on it.”

“Whoa, whoa—time out,” said MH. “How would he profit from Luigi getting nerfed?”

“Don’t you remember back in Melee when he threw a little hissy fit over my ability to stand up to his power?” asked Luigi.

“You’re saying—envy made him do it?” asked MH.

“Either envy—or simply for the fun of it,” shrugged Luigi. “He prefers chaos over order, that’s for sure.”

“You’re saying that CH was involved in a plot to get you nerfed just for [bleeps] and giggles?”

“If there _was_ a plot, then that’s my best bet,” said Luigi.

“Wow,” gasped MH.

“Maybe you should get around to questioning him one of these days,” added Mario.

“Look—I’m really sorry about what happened. It’s true that you broke the rules, but you didn’t deserve that beatdown,” said MH. “I’ll talk to my brother and see if he knows anything.”

“Like he’ll just tell you,” huffed Luigi.

“I can be very persuasive,” MH assured him.

“When I walked in there and saw Mario like that, I…”

“It’s okay, Luigi. You don’t have to tell me.”

“They really hurt him. Remy and Rory especially.”

Mario nodded, his eyes dimmed. “They said…”

“Timmy was a reluctant participant, from what I gathered,” said MH. “He told me what Rory and Remy said.”

“And all you’re doing is docking their pay?” balked Luigi. “Who’s to say they won’t do it again? Those two should be _fired_!”

Mario tightened his grip on him. “He’s right, you know,” he said. “Their behavior goes against what this tournament is about.”

“If they persist, then I will take further action,” MH promised them.

“Oh, that’s very comforting, Master Hand,” Luigi said dourly. “If they come after Mario again…”

“They won’t. You have my word. I’ll be watching them very closely,” said MH. “Mario, I want you to go to Dr. Mario’s office and get your injuries looked at.”

“Okay,” Mario said softly.

Luigi started to help him out, only for MH to stop him with a finger on his shoulder. “I need a word with you,” he said. “Alone.”

Mario bristled, but Luigi nodded to him. “Go,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

Giving MH a blistering look, Mario limped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The Hand of Creation turned to the man in green. “Please, have a seat,” he said.

Luigi obliged.

“Again, please accept my sincere apology for what happened,” said MH. “I was upset at Mario for a long time over the car, and you know I had to suspend him for attacking Steve and Stevie, regardless of their own actions. But never would I instruct four of my employees to ambush him like that.”

Luigi said nothing.

“If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I fear that his injuries would’ve been far worse,” MH continued, now avoiding Luigi’s gaze. But he could feel and sense everything.

“L, I—I want you to know that I didn’t suspend your brother to be mean. If I gave him preferential treatment for being Nintendo’s mascot, then that wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

Still, Luigi remained silent, not trusting himself to speak. Because if he did, then he feared that he’d just—lose it.

“And about what I said to him—I didn’t mean it. I don’t know what came over me. I…” MH cleared his throat, and Luigi stiffened slightly, clenching his fists and focusing on his breaths. “I’m not making any excuses. It’s just—I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.”

“I’ll bet,” Luigi managed to say.

“However—that’s not the only reason why I needed to speak to you privately,” said MH.

Luigi took a deep breath and slowly streamed it out. “Go on,” he said.

“You really came through for your brother today,” MH continued. “You stood up for him, defended him, supported him. You got him out of harm’s way. It wasn’t the first time, but your actions were honorable and admirable. For that, I highly commend you.”

“I did what I had to do,” Luigi said quietly.

MH nodded.

“However,” the glove went on, “that does not excuse the fact that you were engaged in fight outside of the battlefield, which is a direct violation of Smash’s code of conduct.”

Luigi tensed again.

“I’m sorry, Luigi. Truly, I am. I have no choice but to suspend you.”

“Wh—what? Are you serious?” gasped Luigi.

“I’m not punishing you for helping Mario,” said MH. “Unfortunately, just like him, you broke the rules.”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Luigi wanted to know.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked MH. “Or call for help?”

“Master Hand—I saw what they were doing to him and just—acted.”

“Yes, I understand that, but the fact is, fighting outside of the battlefield and the Training Area will not be tolerated. No exceptions.”

Luigi went pale. “You gotta be s—ing me,” he said in disbelief.

“Your suspension will commence tomorrow,” said MH, “and shall last for a period of ten days. You may still use the Training Area and all recreational facilities, but you cannot participate in any matches or Smash Runs.”

Luigi dropped his face into his hands and groaned.

“I don’t like this as much as you,” MH told him, “but I have no choice. Furthermore, ten days have been added to Mario’s current suspension for the same reason.”

“WHAT?!” Luigi snapped his head back up.

“That’s the way it has to be,” MH said firmly.

“He—he was defending himself!” Luigi protested.

“He could’ve called for help,” said MH.

“And they were just gonna stand there and let him?” challenged Luigi. “He subdued them and then fled, but they just kept coming at him until they cornered him in that lounge. And Remy and Rory turned it into a one-sided fight, so I _had_ to step in before things got worse!”

“Rules are rules, Luigi. You can’t change that. I can’t change that.”

“Yeah? You wouldn’t have broken this to me if Mario had still been here!” Luigi shot back.

MH hesitated. Luigi made a good point.

“I wanted to give him time to recover before I told him,” the glove said finally.

“Well—that’s very nice of you,” snapped Luigi.

“Watch that attitude, Luigi, or I just might make it fifteen days,” warned MH as Luigi glared at him. “There’s a good chance that I might shave some time off both of your suspensions. But you have to work with me here, all right?”

Luigi glowered. “All right,” he said finally. “Will that be all, Master Hand?”

“Yes, Luigi. You are dismissed.”

The man in green rose from his seat and stalked out of the office. MH stared after him, concerned.

**1.1.1**

Dr. Mario had looked over all of Mario’s wounds, and he’d advised that his red-and-blue counterpart remain in the hospital for at least three days for observation. Mario had kindly thanked the good doctor for his advice and saw to it that he was discharged within the hour.

Now, he was back in his room, which was none the worse for wear following the incident. He lay there in silence, the TV on mute, staring at the ceiling as those words replayed in his head. His body hurt, his heart hurt. Everything hurt. Eventually, he poured himself two glasses of sweet wine and decided to take a nap, a nap which ended up fitful and short. The pain and the echoes of the words always woke him up.

Mario grabbed his cell phone and sent Luigi a text. _How’d the talk with MH go?_

_ It went okay, _was the reply. _I’m in the Training Area rn. How’re you feeling?_

_ Better._ It was a lie, but he didn’t want Luigi fretting too much over him, not with so much already on his plate. _Dr. Mario tried to make me stay in the hospital, but I talked him out of it._

_ Just take it easy for a few days, and don’t worry. I’ll b fine._

Mario sadly chuckled._ Okeydokey Luigi._

_ TTYL, Mario._

_ K bye. _😊

_ Byeeee. _😉

As Mario plugged in his earbuds and put on a playlist of 80s hits, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Luigi was hiding something. _He’s probably doing it to protect me. Good ol’ Luigi. Always looking out for his bro. I wish I could do a better job looking out for him…_

A tear slid slowly down his face.

Someone knocked on his door. “Mario, it’s Lauren!”

He paused his music, slid out of bed and answered the door. “Hey,” he said.

“Oh, my God, are you all right?” asked Lauren.

“Yeah.”

“I saw them coming—I should’ve done something…”

Mario patted her hand. “It’s not your fault. And besides, I was already warned in advance.”

“Who…?”

“Peach.”

Lauren slumped in relief. “Thank God you’re not badly hurt.”

“Thank Luigi, too. He helped me when I was nearly overrun.”

“Er—yeah. That’s what I wanna talk to you about,” Lauren said uneasily.

Mario blinked. “What happened?”

“There’s not an easy way to say this,” said Lauren, “so I’m just gonna say it. Luigi’s—been suspended.”

“What?! What for?!”

Lauren huffed. “Fighting outside of the tournament.”

“As in ‘defending me from four brutish a—holes?!’”

“Yup.”

“Son of a—for how long?”

“Ten days. And he’s tacked on ten days to your suspension, as well.”

“God—mit! That f—ing Master Hand!” Mario exclaimed. “How’d he take it?”

“He’s just as upset as you.”

“I could see why he didn’t wanna tell me,” said Mario. “Thanks, Lauren.”

“What are you gonna do?” asked Lauren.

“What I do best,” vowed Mario. “I’m gonna be there for him. And if he needs someone to vent to, I’ll be just the guy.”

“Just—give him a chance to calm down first,” advised Lauren.

“Will do,” said Mario.

“Oh, and I fixed up your room while you were gone,” added Lauren.

“Wow—you’re on top of everything!” cried Mario.

Lauren beamed. “Get some rest. I’ll check up on you later,” she said before taking her leave.

“Oh, Lauren—you don’t know how hard that’ll be,” sighed Mario before limping back to his bed and carefully sliding under the covers.

**1.1.1**

Koopa lumbered into the Main Lounge and quickly found the woman he was looking for, sipping on a milkshake.

“Hey,” he said.

Peach looked up.

“Thanks for warning Mario,” Koopa said sincerely.

Peach scoffed. “Yeah,” she said, “because they’re not allowed to hurt him. Only you.”

“Well, that’s part of it, but—I kinda like the guy,” said Koopa.

“Really? You have a strange way of showing it,” said Peach. In a softer tone, she asked, “How is he?”

“He’ll be okay,” smiled Koopa. “He’s resting right now. It could’ve been worse.”

“Glad to see you care,” Peach told him.

“He had some help,” said Koopa. “Green ’St—Luigi barged in when all hope seemed to be lost and handled the four of them. Two of them—Rory and Remy—had some _words_ with Mario, you know.”

Peach frowned. “What did they say?”

Koopa told her, and she turned as pink as her dress.

“Those motherf...!”

“Whoa, easy!” Koopa laughed nervously. “That was when the L showed up, after all.”

“Oh, wow. I hope they’re punished severely,” said Peach.

“MH docked their pay for two weeks and ordered them to apologize,” eyerolled Koopa. “Just so you’ll know, MH had nothing to do with that. But I think CH did.”

“Why?”

“I dunno—for the fun of it? He’s Crazy Hand. He’s unpredictable.”

The turtle settled himself across from the object of his desires.

“I have some good news,” said Koopa.

“Do tell,” said Peach.

“Green ’St—Luigi’s been suspended. For ten days. And Mario’s been saddled with ten extra days of suspension.”

Peach had a dainty hand to her mouth. “Oh, my,” she said.

Koopa smirked. “I didn’t say it was good news for you,” he said.

Peach glared at him. “You b—d.”

Koopa chuckled and then enfolded her hand in his. “After you’re finished, how about you go and get your stuff together.”

“Why? What do you m…” She trailed off as realization struck. “Oh, _no_.”

Koopa smirked wider. “You have two hours.”

“Are you f—ing kidding me?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Koopa spread his hands.

“Oh, my God, Koopa,” sighed Peach.

“I’m a villain. What do you expect?”

“After suffering a physical, verbal and psychological beatdown—this, now?” snapped Peach. “Who was I to expect better?”

“I’m giving the three of you two hours to prepare out of respect for what happened.” That smirk didn’t leave Koopa’s face. “That’s generous.”

Peach cursed softly.

“I’ll let them know,” she said finally.

“Leave that to me,” grinned Koopa.

Regally, Peach stood, tossed what was left of her shake in the trash and glided toward her room. Koopa watched her go before fishing out his cell phone and dialing his nemesis.

“Hey, Mario,” he said. “I hope you’ve had your rest.”

He hung up as Mario started to protest.

Laughing to himself, Koopa ordered a large shake and some fries. He needed to get ready, as well.

**1.1.1**

After matches had concluded for the day, Dorf showered and plodded over to his room, only to find a letter on his bed. The seal instantly told him that it was from Koopa.

_Hey, Dorf—wanna come over to my castle tonight? Dinner’s on me.—K.K._

“Don’t mind if I do,” said Dorf before calling his pal and telling him that he was interested.

One of Koopa’s airships picked Dorf up at around 7p.m., and he arrived at Koopa’s Castle about 45 minutes later. There were Koopa Troopas and Hammer Bros lined up to greet him, and then the Koopa King himself emerged and gave the King of Evil a hug.

“I knew you’d make it,” Koopa said warmly.

Dorf nodded. “I haven’t been to your castle in ages.”

In short order, Koopa’s minions were fussing around in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the royals.

“Did you hear what went down today?” asked Koopa.

“I heard that four guys barged into Mario’s room and started attacking him,” said Dorf. “I heard that it got too much, and Luigi had to step in.”

“But did you hear what happened afterward?”

“What happened afterward?”

Koopa grinned. “Both of those pesky plumbers got suspended!”

Dorf let out a celebratory whoop. “For how long?”

“Well, Green ’St—Luigi wound up suspended for ten days, and Mario’s already suspended, so he just got an extra ten days.”

“Excellent,” said Dorf.

“We don’t have to worry about facing either of them on the battlefield for a while,” gloated Koopa. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Indeed.”

The two laughed.

“We could use a break from them from time to time,” said Dorf.

Koopa leaned down and whispered something to a red-shelled Koopa Troopa, who nodded and scurried off.

“We’re responsible,” Dorf said suddenly.

“Hm?”

“We’re responsible for what happened. Last night, we panicked and called CH, remember? I think he’s behind it.”

A woozy feeling suddenly passed over Koopa. “Oh—right…” he said slowly.

The mood was broken, however, when the Koopa Troopa reappeared, Peach walking beside him. The Mushroom Princess was attired in a spaghetti strap salmon dress with sapphire accents, her hair tumbling in waves over her shoulders, her face freshly made up. Fire was in her eyes as they slid over Koopa and Dorf.

Dorf playfully elbowed his friend. “No way! If you’d told me in advance, then I would’ve brought Zel along. Then, we would’ve had a double date!”

They laughed.

“Good to see ya, Peach,” said Dorf.

Peach nodded simply. “Good to see you, too,” she said sweetly.

It wasn’t long before dinner was ready. Koopa sat at one end of the table, Peach to his left and Dorf to his right. His minions and advisors occupied the rest of the table.

“With those plumbers suspended, what’s on your agenda?” asked Dorf.

“They’re probably on their way to rescue our guest here,” said Koopa, indicating Peach, “but I don’t expect them here until tomorrow night, late. But let me tell you that I’m gonna capitalize on their situation for all it’s worth!”

Peach glared at him as she took cautious bites of her food and cautious sips of her drink.

“Chillax, Peachy—I didn’t put anything in there,” purred Koopa, rubbing the small of her back. “What’s the sense in that, right?”

He grunted as she sent an elbow into his ribs.

“Enjoy this while you can,” Peach said in that unsettlingly polite voice. “They’ll come, and they’ll kick your [bleep] and leave you in a heap on that bridge. They always do.”

Koopa and Dorf just laughed.

“This is why I love you,” said Koopa. “That fire—burning inside you. My kingdom could use that.”

“Love? How could you say that? Dragging me to your castle every other day of the week isn’t love,” Peach calmly stated.

“You’ll warm up to me eventually,” Koopa said confidently.

“Just because they’re suspended doesn’t mean they can’t keep an eye out for you,” said Peach. “I hope you know that.”

“Ah—but if they misbehave, MH will pile the suspension on,” grinned Koopa. “That’s where I’ll have my fun.”

Peach looked at him in disgust. “You just don’t know when enough is enough, do you?”

“Not really,” Koopa said innocently. “No.”

“If they beat you and save Peach, what will you do next?” asked Dorf.

“Probably try again in a week,” snarked Peach.

“Smart girl,” said Koopa. “We’ll all go back to the Smash Mansion, and then I’ll push those plumbers’ buttons as much as remotely possible, and after I recover and boost my might, I’ll try again.”

“And what if things go differently this time around and you finally win?” asked Dorf.

“First things first, I _finally_ secure control of the MK,” Koopa replied. “Play some hardball with their allies and negotiate my best generals into the Smash tournament.”

“Yes, that’s about right,” huffed Peach. “You’ll sit on your [bleep] in _my_ castle and profit off of my people’s suffering while they spend the rest of their days as your prisoners!”

“Prisoners? No, no, no,” Koopa said softly. “I promise you, the Toads will come to no harm. They’ll be allowed to keep their homes and their property, for the simple price of accepting me as their ruler.”

“They won’t,” Peach said fiercely. “_I_ won’t.”

“Hey,” Koopa said gently. “Once the MK is mine, I don’t want you to be my prisoner. I want you to be my queen.”

“D’awww…” cooed Dorf.

“What about what _I_ want?” Peach wanted to know. “You don’t give a [bleep] about what I want. You don’t give a [bleep] about what my people want. And you don’t give a [bleep] about what Mario and Luigi want. You’ve never given a [bleep]. It’s always about you and what _you_ want and how you want to conquer my kingdom and make our lives a living Hell.”

“I don’t want to make your lives a living Hell—I want to better your lives,” said Koopa.

“And how do you propose you’ll start? If you have any information on how you’ll possibly improve life in the MK, by all means, share it.”

Koopa opened his mouth to speak, but then hesitated.

“Yeah—that’s what I thought,” Peach said.

“I really haven’t gotten to that part yet,” explained Koopa. “My focus so far has been on taking care of those plumbers once and for all.”

“Let me ask you something—after _taking care_ of them—how are you gonna maintain the kingdom’s sewage and sanitation systems?” challenged Peach. “Hire new plumbers? I certainly hope that there are plumbers under your employ here in the Dark Lands.”

“Well…”

“Face it. If you defeat them in battle, you’ll still need them,” Peach stated smartly, leveling a forkful of food into her mouth. “Who’s to say that someone won’t finish what they started, hm? Especially you, Dorf. Others will come after Link should you best him. I don’t think you can even _imagine_ a life without your archnemeses. They’re the only ones who really know you, besides me and Zel, of course.”

“I see what you’re suggesting,” Dorf murmured, “but using human life as blackmail is beneath me.”

“Me, too,” said Koopa. “Don’t worry about your plumbers, Peachy. If they should fall to me, then I’ll honor them as the heroes they are. They’ll be buried with full honors, and their bodies will be treated with the utmost respect. I don’t think they’ll want to live out their days as someone’s insurance policy, don’t you agree?”

“That makes me feel better,” muttered Peach.

But there was something Peach was right about. Both Koopa and Dorf were hesitant over striking the final blow to their respective archnemeses. In a twisted way, they enjoyed having them around, enjoyed fighting them and toying with them and p—ing them off. Koopa wanted Peach as his queen, and Dorf wanted Zelda as his, but the anticipation of confronting their brave rescuers—that was something they truly lived for.

“Peachy here is the one who tipped Mario off to those four guys in the first place,” Koopa said to his friend. “She saw them headed toward his room. If it hadn’t been for her quick thinking, Mario would’ve gotten much worse. I kinda owe her this time around.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Peach said coldly.

“It wasn’t right,” said Koopa. “What those two said to him. It was unnecessarily cruel and mean-spirited. Can we at least agree on that?”

“Yeah,” said Peach. “We can. I just can’t believe you wanna kick him while he’s down.”

Koopa shrugged. “It’s my nature. I really can’t help myself.”

A green-shelled Koopa Troopa walked into the room with a folder in hand.

“Thank you,” said Koopa, accepting the folder and then opening it. “Oh, dear…”

“What is it?” asked Dorf.

“Those plumbers have just cleared World 1,” said Koopa.

“If you need some help with the other worlds…” offered Dorf.

“No, thanks. I don’t wanna drag the elf boy into this.”

Dorf arched an eyebrow. “He’s not just an ‘elf boy’. Link’s the best fighter I’ve ever met.”

“Which is why I don’t wanna get him involved. Those plumbers are bad enough. I mean, I’ve fought Link several times in Smash, and off the battlefield—I don’t wanna take any chances.”

Ganon winced in sympathy. “Yeah—I guess you’re right.”

“Slumber party?” asked Koopa.

“Good idea,” said Dorf.

“Shall I send out some reinforcements?” asked Kamek.

“Might as well,” said Koopa. “And Peach—would you like us to share some dessert in my quarters?”

“Do I have a choice?” eyerolled Peach.

“No.”

“Then I guess I will.”

“Excellent.” To a handful of Koopa Troopas, he said, “Escort Peach upstairs and make sure she’s as comfortable as possible. I will join her momentarily.”

Peach daintily wiped her mouth, rose from her chair and offered Koopa one last scathing look before following the Koopa Troopas out of the room.

“I have just the room for you, Dorf,” said Koopa. “Some of my Hammer Bros will show you the way. I’ve provided all of the amenities you need for the night.”

“Thanks, man,” said Dorf. “Hey—don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“I won’t. If those plumbers arrive earlier than expected, stay calm and follow my minions’ instructions. Don’t try to confront them yourself; it’ll only drag the fight out, which will lead to more property damage and more people getting injured than necessary.”

“You see me as the kind of person who will panic? I know what to do,” Dorf assured him.

Koopa clapped Dorf on the shoulder. “Sleep well.”

“You, too. See you in the morning.”

They parted after exchanging friendly smiles.


	11. T Plus 10 Days

Dorf awoke with a stretch and a mighty yawn, relieved that Koopa’s Castle hadn’t been stormed in the night. After playing around with his phone, he dragged himself out of bed, washed his face, showered and dressed in fresh clothes.

When he descended the stairs into the dining room, Koopa and Peach were already seated, enjoying breakfast together as the former’s minions fried bacon and sausage, prepared scrambled eggs and baked biscuits.

“Morning,” greeted Koopa. “You’re just in time.”

Dorf took a seat, his stomach growling as a plate piled high with food was set before him. “Looks delicious,” he said before stabbing his fork into a golden mass of freshly scrambled eggs.

“It _is_ delicious,” said Peach, cutting off a piece of sausage, blowing on it and carefully putting it in her mouth. “I may not like being in this castle, but at least the food’s great.”

“Only the best for my Peachy,” cooed Koopa.

Dorf then noticed that Peach was now clad in a strapless forest green dress with black accents, her hair in a messy ponytail. “I like the new look. It suits you,” he said.

Peach tossed her head. “It’s temporary,” she said. “I’ll be back in my pink gown before you know it.”

The two villains chuckled.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” asked Dorf.

“I’m just gonna spend time with Peach until those plumbers inevitably show up. You?”

“I’ll head back to the Smash Mansion and deflect questions from MH. Thanks for letting me stay the night.”

“No thanks is necessary; it was an honor to have you here.”

“You know that MH will have it in for you after…”

Koopa sighed. “No doubt,” he said. “It’s worth it, though. He really needs to work on his security.”

He and Dorf laughed.

“Just—don’t push their buttons too much, all right?” asked Dorf.

“Believe it or not, I’m going easy on them this go-round.”

Peach quirked an eyebrow.

“They’re not giving up their search for answers,” Dorf went on.

“No matter—this’ll distract them,” crowed Koopa.

“How does that concern you, anyway?” asked Peach.

The villains exchanged a look, knowing that they’d said too much.

“You were out of town all month long, Dorf. So why should you care?”

“Because—he’s my friend,” spluttered Dorf.

Peach glared at her captor. “And you—you threw quite a tantrum after Luigi handed you your tail in front of God and everyone. You’d _really_ benefit if he was nerfed, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe,” said Koopa.

“Well, the tournament rules don’t apply in a rescue mission,” Peach said crisply. “Either way, you’re f—ed. Unless this is some psychological tactic, which I don’t think will work for long. Luigi will pull himself back up from this and move on. So if you were in on this, then it was a waste of your time.”

“In on what? I wasn’t in on anything,” said Koopa.

“Oh, I think you were.”

“Don’t be absurd—I’m not that bad of a villain,” snorted Koopa.

Peach gave a soft, bitter laugh.

“They’re gonna find out sooner or later,” she said ominously, “so it might as well be sooner.” She leaned into Koopa’s ear and dropped her voice. “And you’d better pray that Master Hand finds out before my heroes do.”

Silence.

“Okay—I could use a stiff drink right now,” said Dorf, breaking the silence.

“Me, too!” said Koopa.

Two Hammer Bros began expertly mixing drinks for the trio. They began downing shot after shot as they filled up on eggs, sausage, bacon and biscuits, talking about this and that. Once the food started running low, Koopa’s minions began wrapping up what was left to save for another morning. After lounging around and chatting for fifteen minutes, Koopa and Peach saw Dorf off as an airship flew him back to the Smash Mansion.

**1.1.1**

“Any news?” asked MH.

“They defeated World 1’s boss overnight,” said Jimmy, regret heavy in his voice. “Now they’re halfway through World 2.”

MH sighed. “Maybe they need this,” he said. “It’ll help clear their heads. But really, why would Koopa pull this now?”

Timmy shrugged. “A window of opportunity, I guess,” he said. “Strike while his archnemeses are at their lowest point.”

Remy and Rory were pale.

“I feel sick,” said Rory, “over what Remy and I said to him. We feel like we’re to blame for this. I just—I think about it and—oh, God.”

“I don’t know what came over us,” sniffled Remy. “We just got all flushed and hot and…”

“That’s no excuse,” MH said sternly. “You still owe them both an apology when they get back.”

The two dropped their heads. “We know,” they said in unison.

“Why did my brother think this was the appropriate course of action, anyway?” MH went on. “Was he hiding something?”

“He didn’t tell us why,” sighed Timmy, “except for the fact that we needed to teach Mario a lesson.”

“Mario thinks that some Smashers deliberately got Luigi nerfed,” said MH. “They think my dear brother knows something; they told me that themselves.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” said Jimmy. “Maybe we can ask him.”

“I can handle my brother,” said MH, “but thank you.”

“What’s your plan of action?” asked Rory.

“If there was a plot, then I’m sure that those involved in it will give up my brother to save themselves—or vice versa,” said MH. “Maybe he’d bribed them with something, or worse—threatened them. I just don’t see why he’d want to be in on something like this.”

“We’ll never understand Crazy Hand,” Remy said consolingly.

“For now, we should all act natural,” said MH. “I don’t want him to know that I suspect him just yet. Currently, our top priority is following the Koopa situation. Whenever the Bros clear a world, I wanna be the first to know, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the four said in unison.

“And remember what I said about apologizing to them.”

They nodded.

“Will that be all, Master Hand?” asked Timmy.

“That will be all for now,” replied MH.

With that, the four men filed out of MH’s office.

**1.1.1**

“Okay, thanks. Please, keep us posted,” Theo said before hanging up.

“Are they all right?” asked Anna.

“Don’t worry; they’re fine,” Theo assured his daughter. “Mario told me that he and Luigi are about to confront the World 2 boss. They’ll update us regularly via call and text.”

Vanessa heaved a sigh. “I can’t even imagine what that monster is doing to Peach in that castle,” she said. “She told me a little bit over lunch, but…”

“C’mon, Mom—the Mario Bros will save her,” Ethan said confidently. “They always do!”

Vanessa smiled.

“After they defeat that Koopa and rescue Peach,” said Theo, “what do you say we go out to celebrate?”

“Okay,” chirped Anna.

“Sounds good,” said Ethan.

“All right,” said Vanessa before her cell phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered. “Hey, Peach! Yeah, Mario just told us! Are you okay?”

Silently, she excused herself before retreating to the master bedroom to talk to the Princess.

Ethan held his sister’s hand. “No reason to fret,” he said. “I have faith in Mario and Luigi. Do you?”

“Yeah,” said Anna, “but I’m always afraid that Koopa will do something awful to them.”

“He buffets them a little bit,” said Theo, “but they always win. They’re a team, and they’ll love each other and help each other, no matter how many times Koopa tells them to give up.”

“They’re not scared of him,” said Ethan, “and neither is Peach. She’s dealt with him for thirty years—thirty whole years. Maybe more. So she’s used to it.”

Vanessa walked back into the room. “I just told Peach the good news,” she said. “She—sounds okay. And she told me that Koopa gave her and the Bros two hours to get ready because—something happened.”

“Wha…?” asked Theo.

“Mario got into a brawl with four men,” Vanessa explained. “Two of them overpowered him and started saying these horrible things to him. Things—I don’t think Anna and Ethan should hear. But they really hurt Mario, and he was just about to give up and let them do their worst when Luigi arrived.”

“No way,” breathed Ethan.

“Yay, Luigi!” cheered Anna.

“Luigi fought those guys off of his bro, and Mario recovered enough to help him. But…” Vanessa sighed. “…rules were rules, and because they were fighting outside of the battlefield, they wound up suspended. Luigi got ten days, while Mario got ten days added to his current suspension. And then Koopa grabbed Peach.”

“Well—that’s the cherry on top, isn’t it?” huffed Theo. “That Koopa—he really knows how to…” He glanced at his son and daughter. “…_set_ those plumbers off.”

Vanessa nodded in agreement.

They jumped as Theo received a text notification. Theo pulled out his phone and read it.

“It’s from Luigi,” he said. “They’re—right in the middle of a heated boss fight. And it doesn’t look good.”

Vanessa hugged her children close, comforting them, endeavoring to remain strong for them.

“They’re gonna make it through this,” she said softly. “They’re gonna make it through.”

**1.1.1**

“Are you serious?” asked Chad. “Out of all of the times to grab her?”

Charlie nodded.

“Wow,” huffed Chad. “He really _is_ their archenemy.”

“He gave them two hours to prepare,” said Charlie. “Called it ‘generous’.”

“I don’t know what’s worse,” said Chad. “This—or Luigi getting suspended for simply helping his big bro.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “According to MH, he still broke the rules by starting a fight outside of the battlefield and Training Area.”

“That’s b.s.! I would’ve done the same thing!” hissed Chad.

Charlie hesitated. “You would’ve? Really?”

“If I’d walked in on four brutes doing such a thing to one of my friends—to _you_—I would’ve given them the worst thrashing this world has ever seen,” Chad said, with heat.

Charlie blushed. “Well,” she said. “I can handle myself pretty well. But thank you. And don’t let MH hear you say that, or he’ll suspend you, too.”

“Let him try,” said Chad. “Seriously, though—why would those four guys want to antagonize Mario, anyway?”

“After the Bros and Peach get back, then we’re gonna find out,” vowed Charlie, “and then we’ll make them wish they hadn’t.”

**1.1.1**

All day long and into the evening, the Smashers spent their free time on their cell phones, checking for updates on Mario, Luigi and Peach. Even those who were the most vocal over the green-clad plumber’s down throw got in on the action, sending out texts, encouragement and well-wishes to the trio. Even though they’d been frustrated over losing to Luigi most of the time, they knew that he was a formidable, capable fighter when it came to rescuing Peach, swallowing his fears and supporting his sibling. The Bros and Peach texted them back when they could, thanking them for the concern, and that they all should be back sometime next morning. One would think that Koopa would take Peach’s cell phone from her, but no. He paid dearly for it, as Peach was able to communicate with her friends and fans when his back was turned, assuring them that she could handle that turtle until help arrived, and that he was having her pampered, and what was the harm in that? Master Hand and Crazy Hand—yes, Crazy Hand—also pitched in by sending food, water, Mushrooms, 1-Ups, Stars and first aid. Remy and Rory got in touch with Mario to apologize, only for the man in red to coldly tell them to say it to his face before hanging up. There was still a lot of anger, anger which he eagerly let out by dealing with the usual enemies and obstacles, and Luigi had a lot of aggression to release, as well. It gave both of them extra energy to clear worlds and infiltrate castles and airships. By 4p.m., World 4 had been cleared. They were halfway there!

“Thank you,” said Koopa after Kamek broke the news to him. He then turned to Peach, who had a defiant glare for him. “Our time together is about to come to an end. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

_Mario—Luigi—I’m counting on you_, Peach thought. _I know you’ll pull through._

**1.1.1**

Later that night, Koopa invited all four of the Bennigan Brothers—Vincent, Manny, Shane and Stuart—to his castle, and all four swiftly accepted. They showered, pulled on some clean clothes and headed over, since Koopa’s Castle was a short walk away from their new homes. Carefully, they stepped across the lava moat and met their host at the door.

“Please, come in!” Koopa happily greeted them.

In no time at all, the five of them were in the living room, enjoying some ice-cold drinks and helping themselves to snacks.

“You seem pretty happy today,” observed Shane.

“Well—these past few days have brought me good fortune,” said Koopa. “For starters, those plumbers got suspended!”

“I thought Mario was already suspended,” said Manny.

“Yes—ten more days were slapped on in his case, but Green ’St—Luigi’s been suspended, too!”

“Tell us—tell us,” Stu said eagerly.

“Okay, here we go. So, there are these four guys, right? Out of the blue, they show up in Mario’s room and start a fight. It spills into an empty lounge area, and it gets ugly _fast_. I mean, two of those guys REALLY start letting him have it.” His voice turned solemn. “They even said some things.”

“My God! Why would they do that to Mario?” gasped Vince. “He’s our hero!”

Koopa sighed. “I don’t really know. But they were just relentless. They were beating the snot out of him while saying—stuff that I’m not gonna repeat. It was _that_ awful. Things got to the point where Mario simply gave up. All of it would’ve ended in tears if help hadn’t arrived.”

“Luigi,” Vince realized.

“He—saved Mario—again,” breathed Manny. “He stood up for him.”

Koopa nodded. “He sent those four packing, but he was also fighting outside of the tournament, which is a big no-no in Smash. So, MH had to suspend him for ten days, and Mario got the extra ten days due to his involvement.”

“Wow,” said the Bennigan Brothers.

“And—how is that good news?” Shane ventured to asked.

Koopa grinned. “I don’t have to worry about them on the battlefield!”

“But—isn’t that _why_ we had Luigi nerfed?” asked Manny. “So you wouldn’t have to stress too much if he was the opponent?”

“When it comes to me and those plumbers, it has nothing to do with nerfs,” said Koopa. “I’ve fought them countless times before I joined the Smash party in Melee. Believe me—they’re no one to trifle with.”

“I thought you look forward to fighting them,” said Stu.

“I do. But I’m smart. There are days when I just know that I’ll stand no chance against them. This is one of those days—they’re fired up over Steve and Stevie’s attack and MH’s response to it. They’re fired up over Luigi getting nerfed in the first place. No sense in rocking the boat till they’ve calmed down a little, yeah?”

The four nodded.

“What the two Steves did was wrong. That wasn’t the angle we were going for,” said Vince. “I hope you know that.”

Koopa nodded. “I’m on Mario’s side with that one. MH shouldn’t have suspended him over that. Probation, maybe, but not that. And—those four guys ganging up on him—was kinda my fault.”

“What…?” asked Stu.

“Dorf and I panicked,” explained Koopa. “We thought that Mario was closing in on the plan and alerted Crazy Hand. Shouldn’t have done that.”

“Something about that glove’s giving me the heebie-jeebies,” said Vince. “He helped pay for the whole affair and did his part in manipulating MH, but now…”

“Some of our co-conspirators have come to us, saying that CH has sent them gifts thanking them for their ‘loyalty’,” added Manny. “I think that throwing in our lot with him wasn’t the best idea.”

“We couldn’t have gotten this done without him,” said Koopa.

“Yeah, but—I’m starting to think we shouldn’t have done this at all,” Shane told him. “Luigi’s bouncing back, and judging by his actions yesterday…”

His brothers murmured in agreement.

“You never told me why you hate him,” said Koopa.

“Well—we don’t really know,” stammered Vince. “Maybe we didn’t think he was worthy of being the star of the show, but seeing him in action for once proved us wrong.”

“He faced his fears twice,” Koopa told them. “And yesterday…”

“Yesterday, he fought four men bigger and stronger than him to protect Mario,” Stu finished. “I was wrong about him. We all were.”

“Wow. We spent a full month of scheming, and now look at us,” Shane put in.

“We’re starting to like the guy,” said Manny. “No doubt about it.”

“He grows on you, doesn’t he?” opined Koopa. “He certainly did in my case, after seeing him back Mario up so many times.”

More murmurs.

“But there _must_ be another reason why you’re so happy,” said Vince. “Your biggest enemies getting suspended is merely the icing on the cake. You look like you’ve just accomplished a major—wait a minute.” He dropped his voice. “You have her, don’t you?”

Koopa nodded smugly.

“Where?”

“Upstairs.”

“And you invited us over anyway? Remember what happened last time?”

“She’s not within earshot, I assure you. And last time turned out okay, despite a visit from those plumbers.”

“Oh, wow,” gasped Vince. “Oh, wow.”

“She’s been here since last night,” said Koopa.

“So, after the Bros dealt with those four guys and got in trouble with MH, you topped things off by grabbing Peach?” asked Stu.

“That’s right,” said Koopa. “It was as good a time as ever.”

Manny whistled. “It’s not just about her magic, is it?” he asked. “You—you love her.”

“I do,” Koopa said. “I always have. That plumber—he doesn’t deserve her.”

“I beg your pardon?” asked Shane.

“He doesn’t deserve her!” growled Koopa. “He doesn’t appreciate her beauty and her power like me! Does he even have feelings for her—or does he love the fact that he gets free cake after every rescue? Him and his ‘Wah-hoo!’ and ‘Whee-hee!’ and ‘Let’s-a go!’—it’s just annoying and childish! What does he know about loving a woman like Peach?! Why does she choose him over me? I—I can take care of her! When I have her in my castle, I keep her fed and clothed, I pamper her, I make sure she’s comfortable in every way! I spend as much time as I can with her, and that’s more than I can say for Mario! He’s always on an adventure or playing sports while she’s cooling her heels and ruling a kingdom by herself!”

“Every week, you ride in on your airships and fire upon her kingdom,” said Stu.

“Yes—but I don’t do that to injure people,” said Koopa. “I do that to rattle those Toads a bit and announce my presence, like any villain! Then, I go to the castle, get the Princess and fly out of there without causing any more destruction. After we arrive at my castle, I calm her down, give her something to eat, and then I have her bathed and pampered until she’s nice and relaxed. I don’t hurt her. I just—I—I want her to understand. And I only put her in the cage toward the end so I can psych myself up and keep her out of harm’s way.”

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged a look.

“I love her so much—but she’ll never understand. Here in the Dark Lands, I’m lonely. My Koopalings are lonely. BJ, especially—he just wants a mom. And I just want a queen.” Koopa lowered his head and quietly wept.

“Hey,” said Vince, laying a hand on Koopa’s shell. “You have a lot of friends—my bros and I and Dorf and…”

“Aw, thanks, guys,” sniffled Koopa, “but there’s one thing missing here—the love of a gorgeous woman like Peach. I look at her, and for a while, world domination doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is holding her in my arms—just once. Which reminds me…” The turtle composed himself and wiped at his eyes. “I’ve spent some time working on my ultimate plan.”

He hefted out a folder heavy with documents and placed it onto the table. “A royal wedding.”

“Royal wedding? You wanna marry her?” cried Vince.

Koopa nodded eagerly. “Dorf agreed to be my best man, but I’ll need some groomsmen.”

“You already have four of them,” said Manny.

“I’ll ask some Smashers when those plumbers aren’t looking,” said Koopa, “but in order to get the food, I’ll have to traverse different parts of the world. An odyssey like that costs money.”

“We can fund it,” offered Vince.

“You’re too kind. But I already have a funding source. I’ve saved up some dough.”

“Okay—maybe we’ll help plan this wedding,” said Shane.

“I already hired some planners.” Koopa showed the four a brochure as he spoke. “They’re very professional and very flexible.”

“They’re—rabbits,” Vince said in confusion. “Rabbits you haven’t even met.”

“It’s not like I don’t trust you,” sighed Koopa. “It’s just—you’ve already been involved in a scheme targeting Green ’St—Luigi, and there’s a chance Mario could uncover that. If I rope you into this wedding—then Mario will _really_ have it in for you. I can’t risk that, all right?”

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged looks. Koopa made a valid point.

“Why rabbits, though?” Stu wanted to know.

“They’re not rabbits,” said Koopa. “They’re Broodals, and I hear that they’re the best wedding planners around. A team of three brothers and one sister. The sister—the one wearing purple—is Harriet. The one in green is Topper. Spewart is the one in royal blue. And the thin one wearing a yellow hat and orange shorts is Rango. Later this month, they’ll come by for a consultation. The plan itself should be ready to execute in about two years.”

“We’re happy for you,” said Vince. “We really are.”

“However,” said Koopa. “This is meant to be a special wedding to a special woman. Which means—I won’t settle for any old wedding dress, any old wedding rings, any old flower arrangements, and any old food selection. I hired the Broodals because they’ll help me find the best of the best—of the best. They’ll comb through continents unknown to procure the most precious accessories. Like the Binding Band, said to keep couples together for all eternity. And the Lochlady Dress, the perfect wedding gown for my blushing bride. And the Stupendous Stew—I’ve heard a lot about the Stupendous Stew, how it’s—stupendously delicious.”

“You have to decorate the castle, too,” said Shane.

“Who said anything about holding it in the castle?” asked Koopa. “There’s a good chance that _he_ might show up and object to the nuptials. And he already knows where my castle is located. When the time is right, it’s crucial that I keep Mario guessing, trip him up—subvert his expectations. Because Peach is gonna be my bride, whether that plumber likes it or not.”

“He could bring help,” warned Manny.

“Sometimes, Mario battles me alone and leaves his bro in charge of the MK. It would be a good time to launch a secondary strike, _really_ get under Mario’s skin by targeting Luigi, but that would mean less time I’ll get to spend with Peach. Maybe one of these days I’ll grab him.”

Stu nodded. “He’ll be useful as a bargaining chip.”

Koopa grimaced. “Using a loved one as blackmail is beneath me. Besides, what’s the fun in that? Do you know the number of ways I can d—k with my rival in red through his beloved brother?”

“He won’t fall easily,” cautioned Vince.

“I don’t expect him to,” winked Koopa. “But—enough talk about capturing Luigi. That’s—for another time.”

“Who else are you inviting to your nuptials?” asked Stu.

“I’ll invite some Smashers and some other high-profile guests and give them the VIP treatment. Vanessa is one of Peach’s fans, so I’ll ask her if she can be the matron of honor. Anna can be the flower girl and—I haven’t decided on a ring-bearer yet. Maybe my son—no, if the worst happens, I don’t want him to get hurt. But Theo can be another groomsman.”

“Make one of those Toad retainers be the ring bearer,” suggested Vince. “Makes for a good psychological impact.”

“The Binding Band isn’t any ordinary ring. It’s HUGE. Maybe I’ll have the two Steves carry it—on second thought, those two fell out of my favor because of what they did to Luigi. So, I’ll ask Ethan and one of his friends if they’ll be up for the job. I’ll go over this plan regularly with my minions and advisors. You’re more than welcome to drop in, too. And—I wanna invite Mr. Sakurai. My ‘thank you’ to him for his contribution to our little plan.”

“If Peach sees him among the audience…”

“She won’t suspect a thing,” Koopa said confidently, “because she won’t know about it.”

“She might find out,” warned Manny.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” said Koopa. “If she does, then I’ll probably have Kamek erase it from her memory, or something.”

“And Mario?” Stu put in.

“Yes, well—every plumber should have a secret to take to their grave,” mused Koopa.

The four brothers exchanged looks.

“Now,” said Koopa. “How are those homes treating you?”

“Can’t complain,” said Shane.

“Totally awesome,” smiled Manny.

“I kinda split time between here and Baltimore,” said Vince.

“And Stu—don’t worry. I’ll get you situated in no time,” said Koopa. “And I’ll put in a good word to MH for you. Maybe he’ll give you another chance.”

“Maybe,” echoed Stu.

“Are you sure you don’t want a bachelor party before the big day?” asked Shane. “My brothers and I know how to throw it down.”

Koopa smiled. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “Okay?”

“Okay,” the four brothers said in unison.

A few Koopa Troopas arrived to restock on snacks and drinks.

“So,” said Koopa after they departed. “I hear that you have another plan up your sleeve.”

“Yeah, but we’re thinking about shelving it,” sighed Vince.

“Why?” asked Koopa.

“It’s just not appealing anymore,” explained Vince. “This plan was destined to hurt Luigi where his nerf couldn’t, but your words about the depravity of using a loved one as blackmail hit home.”

“And last I checked, ballot tampering is illegal,” added Manny.

“Ballot,” murmured Koopa. “The Smash Ballot—Daisy!”

“Yup,” said Vince. “The objective of Operation Ballot Box was to nip Daisy’s bid to join the tournament in a bud. But—this is Daisy’s dream. We don’t wanna mess with an innocent woman’s dream just to get at a man we hate.”

“Did he do something to you?” asked Koopa.

“No,” chorused the brothers.

“We just—didn’t really like him,” said Stu.

“Well—maybe you all can talk it out sometime,” offered Koopa.

“You really think that’ll help?” asked Shane.

“It’ll be a good start,” Koopa said reassuringly.

“You’re giving us advice on patching things up with one of your enemies, you know that?” laughed Manny.

“I don’t hate him _that_ much,” smirked Koopa. “Besides, I wanna help you. If you can get to the root of the problem—maybe you’ll live better lives without all of that hate bogging you down. Like—what’s-his-name.”

“Oh—him,” snorted Vince. “We don’t hate him _that_ much, either. And last I checked, he’s still trapped in a vault somewhere—I hope.”

“He escaped before,” shuddered Stu. “He could do so again.”

“Relax, Stu,” said Vince. “In that case, L will be ready for him—scared stiff, maybe, but ready for him.”

Silence.

“How about some more wine?” asked Shane.

“You got it!” said Koopa, uncorking a fresh bottle and pouring it into his guests’ goblets.

The wine and other spirits continued to flow through the night as the four brothers lounged around with Koopa, talking and joking. For a short interval, nothing mattered—not even the possibility of someone unearthing the truth about Project Nerf. It was just five friends socializing. Eventually, two Shy Guys brought platters of freshly baked donuts and cookies to share, along with a huge pitcher of water and some dessert wine. Then, a Lakitu came along and put on some music. There was much relaxing and unwinding, problems all but forgotten.

Until—

“Your Vileness!” Kamek exclaimed, flying over on his broom. “I bring urgent news!”

Everyone stiffened.

“What is it?” asked Koopa.

“Mario and Luigi have been spotted!” reported Kamek. “They’re about to breach the castle!”

“Do you have an ETA for them?”

“As of right now—six to nine minutes.”

“Sixty-nine minutes?!” shouted Vince.

“No, no, no—six _to_ nine minutes,” corrected Kamek.

“Holy [bleep]!” cried Manny. “We gotta get out of here!”

“All right—everybody stay calm,” said Koopa. “Please, line up and follow me in an orderly fashion.”

The Bennigan Brothers finished their drinks and obeyed. Koopa led them to a small room with more snacks and a widescreen TV.

“Wait here,” he commanded. “I need to get Peach ready. Don’t open the door for anyone else. And if those pesky plumbers come across this room, then don’t panic. Just follow their instructions; I’m sure they won’t hurt you—badly. Sit tight—I’ll be right back.” Briskly, he left, closing the door after him.

The four men could hear muffled shouting and running footsteps as Koopa’s minions went to engage the castle’s defenses. Quietly, they stood and helped themselves to some chamomile tea to steady their nerves.

“I’ve played the games for years,” mused Stu, “but I’ve never seen the final battle from Koopa’s perspective.”

His siblings hummed in agreement.

“After nearly 30 years, it’s still a big deal,” murmured Shane.

“I think that’s true for both sides,” opined Manny.

“The question is—whose side are _we_ on?” asked Vince.

There was a distant rumble.

“What was that?” asked Stu.

“Just some artillery,” said Vince. “Bullet Bills. And I think there are Thwomps practicing, as well.”

Stu relaxed.

“How do those two get past all of that?” asked Manny.

“Beats me,” grunted Shane. “Maybe raw determination.”

“Maybe,” echoed Vince.

They jumped at a THUD, followed by another.

“That’s not good,” muttered Vince.

CRAAASH!

The four brothers dove for cover as chaos exploded. Koopa Troopas and other minions began shouting orders to each other as more running footsteps tramped outside. In their minds, the Bennigan Brothers could imagine the front door bursting from its hinges and the Super Mario Bros determinedly striding through, powered up and ready to tussle with their nemesis. What if those two came across them? Would they consider them a friend or an enemy? And what if they recognized Stu?

“Where is that turtle?” hissed Shane.

“He’s right here.”

The Bennigan Brothers looked up as Koopa appeared in the doorway, looking mildly shaken. “They’re a little early,” he said.

“Oh, man,” breathed Vince as he and his siblings got to their feet. “Is there a way out of this place without getting spotted?”

“Aw, come on!” objected Stu. “I wanna see the big fight!”

“This isn’t the Smash tournament,” Koopa reminded him. “There are no rules here. Anything that can happen between me and those plumbers _will_ happen. I don’t want you caught in the crossfire, and I’m sure _they_ don’t, either.”

Stu huffed. “All right,” he conceded. “Perhaps another time.”

“I have to meet those two on the bridge,” said Koopa. “In the meantime, the rear of the castle is your best bet. You shouldn’t encounter the Bros, but if you do, don’t engage them. Do as they tell you and answer their questions honestly. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” said the quartet.

“The best of luck to you all,” said Koopa.

“You, too,” said Vince.

All four brothers shook Koopa’s hand before walking out of the room and into the commotion-filled hallways. The king then took a deep breath before heading off to his “date” with Mario and Luigi.

Vince, Manny, Shane and Stu were surprisingly calm, striding through crowds of minions as if they belonged there. They watched these minions as they set up Bullet Bill Blasters and affixed Fire Bars to strategic areas on the ground. A few Hammer Bros dashed past, hefting menacing buzzsaw blades. Eager Chain Chomps of various sizes frisked about as their Koopa Troopa handlers sought to soothe them. Heavier muscle, from giant Wigglers to Boom Boom and Mega Monty Mole, lumbered past them as they gazed in wonder. Whenever they came across a minion having difficulty with their task, the four brothers paused in their evacuation to assist them.

“So, this is what it’s like, huh?” Vince shouted above the uproar. “It’s so cool!”

“It’s a gigantic pain in the [bleep],” said a Red Shell, “but it has its moments.”

“You think he’s gonna win this time?” Manny piped up.

“I dunno,” the Red Shell told him. “One of my colleagues told me that those two looked pretty wired and p—ed when they arrived.”

The four brothers grimaced.

“Well, that’s what he told me,” shrugged the Red Shell.

The quartet wished him well and continued on their way. They ascended a staircase and encountered a little Koopa Troopa that could, psyching himself up.

“First time?” asked Stu.

“Yeah,” the Koopa Troopa said breathily.

“Listen,” said Vince. “Why don’t you come with us? Something tells me that it’s gonna get ugly—fast.”

“Not a chance, mister!” replied the Koopa Troopa. “I promised to fight for my King, and I _will_ fight!”

The Bennigan Brothers stared silently at him for nearly a full minute.

“God be with you,” Manny said finally.

The brothers patted the Koopa Troopa on the shoulder and strolled further down the castle. Hearing Koopa roar out his challenge to the Mario Bros was their signal to pick up the pace.

Sounds of the battle echoed through the walls as Vince and his brothers traversed the many corridors and raced up spiral staircases. Koopa’s roars and bellows as he spewed out fire. The slightly metallic sound of his claws slashing. The resounding _thuds_ of punches connecting. A familiar, falsetto voice, answering Koopa’s growls with wordless battle cries and grunts of effort. Another familiar voice joining in, slightly skittish but wholly committed. Those two voices shouted to each other, as well, exchanging commands and encouragement and various expressions of concern. There were other sounds, as well. Sharp cries and deep gasps of pain. The wince-inducing sounds of claws meeting flesh. The two brothers, hollering each other’s names on various occasions, making Vince’s heart twinge in sympathy. Another voice, a calming, dulcet voice, addressing her two rescuers and telling them that she knew they could beat this villain; they had to, for their sake, for her sake and for the sake of her constituents. Koopa’s sinister laughter. Thumping and crashing and smashing and labored breathing. Intermittently, the ground trembled, sending the Bennigan Brothers stumbling, but they always regained their bearings and pushed on. The sounds of battle only amplified during their flight, but they weren’t afraid. On the contrary, they were—excited.

Vince and his brothers were laughing by the time they reached the top floor. And there, they saw it—a long slide leading to the outside world.

“You first,” Stu said to Vince.

Rolling his eyes, Vince sat and scooted forward so that he was partially seated on the slide.

“It’s just like one of those slides at the water park,” he assured them.

There was a rough _thump_ and a pained-sounding roar from Koopa, followed by the sound of a punch being thrown, air rushing from someone’s lungs and Peach giving a small, horrified exclamation.

“There isn’t much time,” said Manny.

Vince snapped off a crisp salute and smiled. “See you guys real soon,” he said.

With that, he crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back and shifted forward the last few millimeters, quickly disappearing into the flume-like contraption. His joyous whooping faded as he descended.

Manny waited thirty seconds before taking his place on the slide. “Tallyho,” he said before crossing his arms, leaning back and letting gravity do the rest.

The remaining Bennigan Brothers peered down the slide as the middle brother’s delighted shouts grew fainter. Then, Shane plunked himself down and assumed the position.

“Wanna give me a push?” he asked Stu.

“Okay,” Stu agreed.

Placing a hand flat on the small of Shane’s back, Stu nudged his brother forward until he was fully on the slippery surface, and then watched as he dropped out of sight.

“OH YEEEAAAAHHH!” Shane’s voice exclaimed.

Stu was the only Bennigan Brother left, and he could hear the two plumbers as they attacked Koopa with all they had left. The battle was almost over; he could feel it. The youngest Bennigan Brother eased himself onto the slide, assumed the position and closed his eyes.

“Here we go,” he murmured as he allowed his body to start sliding down.

It was an exhilarating ride all the way to the bottom, and Stu opened his eyes to find that fluorescent patches were stuck to the slide’s top. This wasn’t so bad, after all.

“YOOOOOOOLOOOOOOOO!” he shouted the whole way.

And then he shot out of the slide and into something soft and earthy, the friction slowing him to a stop. His three elder siblings surrounded him then, helping him to his feet.

“Oh, man,” gasped Stu. “That was totally wicked!”

The four exchanged high-fives.

Outside Koopa’s Castle, the battle between the reptilian king and the stout-hearted plumbers was still audible. The Bennigan Brothers stiffened when they heard Mario desperately shout Luigi’s name. It was a physiological thing, a worry that they were all to familiar with themselves, Vince especially. Being the eldest, he’d always felt the need to look after Manny, Shane and Stu. Whatever problems he and the others had with Luigi didn’t stop them all from relating to him—or to Mario. The man in red’s distress was palpable, and they could feel it through the chilly autumn night.

What the Hell was Koopa doing to Luigi in there?!

“Should we go back?” asked Manny.

Vince bit his lip. “It’s like Koopa said—he doesn’t want more people than necessary getting involved,” he said.

“Or maybe he doesn’t want us to see what he’ll do to them,” Shane said softly.

“Do you think he’ll…?” Stu started to ask.

He was cut off when they heard Luigi scream out in pain, the sound echoing and reverberating beyond the castle and through the many houses and provinces in the Dark Lands. Vince closed his eyes.

“Oh, my God,” he said.

They heard Mario shout back, a truly heart-wrenching cry, and they also heard Peach joining in as well. Reminding them that despite being a laid-back, affable host, Koopa was still among Nintendo’s best rogues. And so, they stood there, listening in, torn between rushing back into the danger zone to help and fleeing to the safety of their homes.

Stu steepled his hands and pressed them against his lips, praying silently. Shane, Manny and Vince took turns comforting him, the eldest sibling intermittently rubbing his jaw.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Shane.

“Well—I—I don’t know what we’re doing anymore,” mumbled Vince. “Trying to ruin Luigi’s life and implode his self-esteem. I thought we had a reason, but it turns out that we don’t.”

“I don’t think we had a reason to begin with,” Stu intoned softly. “I got expelled from Smash for nothing. I don’t think MH will take me back—I won’t blame him if he doesn’t.”

Shane nodded. “We hurt Luigi so badly—he’s going through so much turmoil because of us. And now, here he is, helping his brother and doing the right thing, keeping the light alive—and taking even more pain because of it.”

“Mario’s gonna find out what we did,” Manny sighed in resignation, “and when he does, he’ll pull all of us apart like warm bread. And we’ll deserve it.”

The four of them sat against the wall, listening to the battle rage on. They heard Luigi saying something to Mario, his voice intense and a contrast from the scream that had ripped out of his lungs a few moments ago. And they could make out some of the words…

“_Don’t worry about me, Bro. I can take him. I can take him. Just—save Peach—get her out of here…”_

And Mario sounded near tears as he replied that under no uncertain terms was he gonna leave his little brother behind, that they were gonna make it through this together, and that Koopa was gonna hurt him over his lifeless body. And then Luigi said something else, something drowned out by Koopa’s laughter, and then Mario cursed his archnemesis out, threatening that if he did anything to Luigi, then he’d pay, which made Koopa laugh some more.

Luigi gasped. It sounded more like a stifled scream. Koopa was hurting him again or _something_, but then he spoke to Mario once more; he seemed in control of his voice. And all the Bennigan Brothers could hear was Luigi talking and Koopa’s booming laughter before the sounds of battle started up again; it was forty degrees outside, but the quartet was sweating.

Shakily, Vince got to his feet. “I can’t listen to anymore of this,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

“Good idea,” said Stu.

So, they all stood up and shook out the cramps before beginning to walk down a path made of what looked like volcanic soil and cooled lava, the sounds of the fight receding with each step they took. The pathway curved gently and took them to the castle entrance, and there, in the distance, were their three houses. It appeared that the Mario Bros were too embroiled in their rescue mission to notice. But maybe on the way out—no. The gates and moats would obscure them. And their focus would still be on Peach’s well-being. They’d hardly give those three residences a second glance.

Near the castle, they recognized the flag the Mario Bros would pull down upon completion of each course. There were enemies pulling themselves back up, recovering from the plumbers’ mad dash to the finish. Mushroom Defectors treated their bruised heads with ice packs as Koopa Troopas slowly emerged from their shells, checking to see if the coast was truly clear. Exchanging looks, the Bennigan Brothers raced over to help as many as they could.

“You guys are lucky, you know that?” asked Manny.

“Lucky?” a Hammer Bro sardonically repeated. “We let our King down.”

“He won’t hate you,” Vince assured him. “He’ll know you fought your hardest.”

“Hey—are you his new friends?” asked a Green Shell.

“We are,” said Stu. “We live not far from here.”

“So you’ll be seeing more of us,” added Shane.

A Mushroom Defector nuzzled against Manny’s leg. “You’ll help him next time, right?” he asked.

Manny nodded. “Of course.”

“That’s good to hear,” said the Mushroom Defector.

“We’ll take it from here,” said a Red Shell. “Go. Rest.”

It was then that they noticed the castle had fallen silent.

The battle was over.

But who had won?

The Bennigan Brothers retraced their steps so that they stood directly across from the castle’s moat. And who should emerge victoriously from Koopa’s Castle but—

—Mario!

Head held high, the working-class hero and face of Nintendo strode out of the castle’s doorway, his quest once again over. He was slightly smudged with dirt and covered in bruises and lacerations, there was a cut over his right eyebrow and a few claw strikes had managed to get him. But he would live to fight another day.

Peach was nice and snug in his arms, the portly plumber carrying her bridal style out of the land of danger. She was back in her pink gown, and save for the sweat shining on her face and dribbling down her neck, she was relatively okay. Her arms were around Mario, the two of them smiling tenderly into each other’s eyes and soaking in the joy of being reunited.

A small smile began tweaking at Vince’s mouth as he and his brothers looked on.

And then Peach caught Mario’s hand in hers and pressed it lovingly against her bosom before raising it to her lips, gently kissing his knuckles and squeezing her eyes shut. Mario watched her, love in his eyes, before pulling her close, bringing their foreheads together. The sight of them touched the Bennigan Brothers’ hearts—after all of that adventure, turmoil and suspense, the love between Mario and Peach was as strong as ever.

They watched as Mario spun his Princess around, the two of them laughing gaily, before they kissed, deeply and passionately. Slowly, they broke the kiss, and then Peach stroked Mario’s cheek with her thumb as he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. The scene was beautiful and quite magical. Nothing mattered anymore—they were together and safe and homeward bound.

“Wait,” whispered Shane. “Where’s…?”

The four brothers allowed their gaze to drift beyond the reunited couple, and—

There was Luigi—

He walked a short distance behind Mario and Peach, just as banged up as his elder brother, maybe more. Yes, _definitely_ more. And it dawned on the quartet that he’d taken all of that punishment for Mario. But Luigi’s injuries weren’t the only thing the Bennigan Brothers noticed.

It was the look in his eyes!

Those blue eyes were downcast and slightly dull. The eyes of an exhausted man having performed a thankless task. The eyes of an emotionally overwhelmed man enduring one thing after another. On Luigi’s angular face was a wan expression, wan and weary and resigned. He gazed longingly toward Mario and Peach as they laughed and basked in their reunion.

“Wow,” gasped Vince. “He looks so _sad_…”

His other siblings could only stare on in silence.

Commotion caught their eye, and they saw seven Toad retainers scurrying over, greeting their Princess and her plumber. Excitedly, they crowded around Mario, cheering him as their hero and thanking him for bringing Peach back. Mario beamed and flushed with pride, he and Peach talking to the retainers in low voices.

But they didn’t even notice Luigi.

For once in his life, Vincent Bennigan didn’t know what to say. Or what to think.

Luigi had paused, and now he stood there, watching his brother reap the benefits of his heroic act. Once again getting all of the credit, all of the recognition and all of the fame, while he got zip. A lump rose in Vince’s throat as he studied the man in green, and he saw saw his brothers getting misty-eyed, as well.

“Do they—do they even know he’s there?” Shane asked softly.

Solemnly, Vincent, Manny, Shane and Stuart watched the man they’d claimed to despise get essentially friendzoned. Luigi’s hands were now on his hips, his gaze still unwavering at the Toad retainers fawning over his brother, bearing it all in silence. He was unaware of four other brothers witnessing his secret pain, their previous perceptions of him easily torn down as if they were made of paper. They’d never really seen him as a person, never really seen all of his vulnerabilities and day-to-day struggles. Now, as they witnessed him, stripped bare and fighting back tears and struggling to keep a brave face, once again stuck in an elder brother’s shadow—they began to realize that they never really knew him at all.

Now, all four Bennigan Brothers had lumps in their throats.

“Hey, Luigi?” they heard Mario call out to his sibling in his chipper voice. Finally noticing him.

And they watched as Luigi heaved a big sigh, a sigh which pushed his chest in and then back out, and reset himself. His composure thus regained, the man in green shouldered his invisible burden and resumed his walk, joining his brother, Peach and her retainers. Vince and his brothers stared after him as he strode further away from Koopa’s Castle with a purposeful gait.

Manny’s lips trembled, tears beginning to trace his cheeks. Stu’s eyes were dimmed. Shane just stood there, like a lost little boy. And Vince’s gaze was locked on Luigi as he watched him and his companions leave the Dark Lands behind, headed for the welcome familiarity of the Mushroom Kingdom—or the Smash Mansion. Posture straight, shoulders back, but so much raging inside him like the tides—

When Luigi and Co. were at last out of eyeshot, Vince’s eyes met the teary eyes of his younger siblings.

And he, too, started to cry.

**1.1.1**

The Bennigan Brothers caught the red-eye to Baltimore, and they were now in their high-rise apartment complex with adjoining rooms, sitting around as if in a daze. Vince stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the sunrise and the morning rush hour below. Manny was sprawled on a bed, watching, or trying to watch, the morning news on TV. Shane and Stu were parked on a couch in the living room, staring into space.

The world they thought they knew—their previous existence—had ended. This much was certain.

Images of Luigi, standing outside of Koopa’s castle, barely being acknowledged after presumably almost dying for Mario, looking so hurt and exhausted and so alone, began assaulting their brains.

Looking back on what they’d done, they felt ashamed.

Stu for antagonizing Luigi. His brothers for leading an outlandish plot to get Luigi’s down throw nerfed.

And they wondered if they could ever make it right.

Last night, outside of that castle, the Bennigan Brothers had died.

Sitting in their high-rise, they were being born again.

**End Season 1**


	12. T Plus 11 Days

With the sunrise came the joyous tidings. Koopa had once again been put in his place, and Peach and her heroes were on their way home. The occupants of the Smash Mansion breathed a collective sigh of relief before sending out congratulatory texts to the three, and Vanessa nearly cried. Even those who were irate of Luigi always winning over them before the nerf were glad he was okay. MH and CH organized a celebratory feast which everyone was welcome to attend, and as an act of contrition, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory pitched in.

Just after 12 noon, the Smashers lined up outside the mansion, their eyes scanning the horizon. And then, a speck appeared in the distance, which soon revealed itself as a car containing Peach, Mario and Luigi. The cheers started up as the car pulled up to the entrance and slowed to a stop.

Peach barely had a hair out of place. In fact, it appeared as if her hair had been freshly washed. Her slightly dilated pupils were the only evidence of the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Outwardly, she _looked_ okay, but who knows what Koopa had done with her during her stay in his castle?

Mario appeared all right, as well, considering that he’d fought his hulking archenemy for the umpteenth time. There were bruises on his face, dried blood and healing cuts, but nothing serious—as far as the Smashers could see. But he was smiling, knowing that he’d once again done his duty and freed his Princess from that monster’s claws.

Luigi, however—

He’d gotten the worst of it.

Bruising and swelling marred his features, dried blood crusting along his eyebrows, mouth, nose and cheeks. Through his coveralls, they could see the outline of bandages wrapped around his midsection, and there were first-degree burns, too. It occurred to the Smashers that he’d taken the brunt of Koopa’s wrath for Mario. A weary smile was on the man in green’s face. He didn’t care about the injuries or the pain. All he cared about was that he’d stepped up to the plate and defended his brother.

A Mii chauffeur opened the doors, and one-by-one, the trio exited the vehicle to a hail of applause as Peach’s retainers led the way. Mario offered Peach his arm, and she accepted as they walked forward.

“All right, Mario!” someone shouted, and within seconds, people began crowding around the red-clad hero, shaking his hand and patting him on the back as he strolled past.

“Mario, thank you! Thank you so much!”

“You rock!”

“Is there anything you can’t do?”

“You make the MK proud!”

“Way to go, Mario! You sure showed that big, bad turtle!”

“Awesome job, Mario!”

“Hats off to you, Mario!”

“Go, go, Mario! Three cheers for you!”

And so on.

They mobbed Peach, as well, expressing relief that she was safe and at least still in one piece following her latest encounter with Koopa. Peach blushed and smiled along with her hero.

They hardly even noticed Luigi.

He was right behind Mario and Peach, and yet they didn’t notice.

And yet he walked silently, gamely smiling on as the crowd continued to hail his big bro. The wistfulness was only in his eyes.

They didn’t notice that, either. Not that he minded. He never minded. He was used to this. He really was.

Luigi was fine. Luigi was _okay_.

**1.1.1**

A few hours later, after everyone had time to rest, Smashers, Toads and Super Mario fans alike gathered in the Smash Mansion’s banquet hall, where several tables had been joined together into one big table. Mii helpers placed several large platters of food in front of them, followed by equally large pitchers of juices and sodas. MH hovered before the tables to give a brief address.

“Thank you for coming,” he said. “Even though the tournament has experienced some disquieting events as of late, the news of Peach’s rescue proves that there’s still some goodness in this world, that there’s still a shard of light piercing the darkness, that there’s still a reason to believe. Good may not win over evil all of the time, but it’s the instances that it does which truly count. And who to better demonstrate this than Super Mario? His big heart more than makes up for his small stature, and he’s displayed a willingness to risk everything to fight for his principles. Two days ago, when the ruler of his new homeland was once again put in danger, he once again answered the call to action. And let’s not forget Peach’s own resolve, her resolve and her faith which kept her strong in the face of a monstrous captor. And late last night, the monster was once again beaten back, and the day was saved. It is said that the world is a wonderful place and worth fighting for. Thanks to Mario’s selflessness, I have to agree with the second part. So on behalf of Super Smash Brothers and the Smash World—thank you, Mario.”

Applause. Mario smiled at the people seated around him, yet he avoided MH’s gaze. He didn’t know what to think of the glove’s little speech. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things, was it?

MH connected his phone to a Bluetooth speaker and set his music playlists to play one after the other. The Smashers and other guests began helping themselves to the food and beverages.

Peach was seated next to Mario, a little freshening up having erased all traces of her nearly 33-hour stay in Koopa’s castle. She leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“You did good,” she said softly. “You did good, Mario.”

“I wasn’t about to leave you to his mercy,” said Mario.

“He told me what that guy said to you,” Peach went on, “and I just want you to know—none of that is true. Some friends of mine managed to text me, and they said that as soon as you got the news, your response was…” She snapped her fingers. “Even after what you’d endured hours ago, you were ready to fight for me. That was very noble of you.” Another kiss, this time on the lips. “Thank you, Mario.”

The memory of the encounter with those four still hurt, but Mario still took Peach’s words to heart. “Oh, Peachy,” he sighed dreamily, smiling back at her.

“I hope we’re not interrupting.”

Vanessa and her family had arrived, taking seats near the Mushroom Princess.

“Hi, Vanessa. Thanks for checking up on me.”

“That’s what friends do,” replied Vanessa.

The two women hugged.

“Thank God you’re all right,” Vanessa breathed. “Anna started getting a little worried about you.”

“I can handle Koopa,” Peach said brightly, “but I appreciate the concern.”

Anna beamed at Peach. “I’m so happy Mario saved you,” she chirped.

“So am I,” said Ethan. “Thanks, Mario. You’re the best.”

The teen and the plumber high-fived.

“Yeah. We’ll always believe in you,” Anna piped up.

“That really means a lot, Anna,” said Mario, and it did. It really did!

“They’re right, you know,” said Peach. “It doesn’t matter how long I spend with that turtle—a day, a week, a year—because I know you’re right on his tail. It’s made my captivity more—bearable. Thirty years after you came into my life, that will never change.” She raised her glass. “To Mario.”

“To Mario,” chorused the guests.

Indeed, Mario was the man of the hour. Most of the Smashers sat around him, listening as he recounted his climactic fight with his archenemy and his trip through eight worlds which preceded it.

“Fantastic,” said Fox. “Simply fantastic. Isn’t he fantastic, you guys?”

Cheers of assent.

“What kind of man faces down a beast twice their size?” asked one Mario fan. “A legend. A f—ing legend! Here’s to you, Mario!” He lifted his drink and took a swig.

They all laughed and gushed over Mario’s feats, toasting to him every so often. But Luigi, seated with a few other Smashers, was largely left out of the conversations. Not once did they approach him, or raise a toast to him or ask him to recount his side of the venture. If they’d asked, then he would’ve told them how he’d really stepped up to the plate to protect his sibling, taking the brunt of Koopa’s assault in his stead. How he’d disregarded his own safety and well-being and put Mario’s at the forefront. How he was willing to surrender himself and spend the rest of his days as Koopa’s personal punching bag—or face a particularly gruesome death—just to see Mario and Peach reunited and safe. How, as Koopa briefly got the upper hand over them, he’d looked Mario in the face and told him to focus entirely on rescuing Peach and not to worry about him. How he was prepared to take everything that turtle dished out just to give Mario a second chance.

But—they didn’t care about things like that. Only about Mario, the hero everyone wanted to be. Even after what he’d done, Luigi barely got any shred of acknowledgement. But he’d still be loyal to Mario to the very end, because he loved him so much, and every hero needed a sidekick. Could anyone imagine Batman without Robin? Probably not.

Even with his fans gathered around him, Mario’s eyes met Luigi’s across the banquet hall, the elder seeing the younger’s sadness and frustration. But Luigi smiled nonetheless and raised his own glass in a toast, as if to say, _Enjoy this. You’ve earned it._

But someone else also took notice of Luigi’s disposition.

Sitting with his friends, Falco’s eyes wandered toward Luigi. He took in the way he leveled small forkfuls of food into his mouth and the distracted look in his eyes. Everyone was sidling up to converse with Mario, but they were barely giving Luigi the time of day. That was probably hurting something fierce.

Falco missed Luigi’s company so much, further convinced that his outburst that day was uncalled for. In that elevator, Luigi had told him that he could never forget the words, and that their relationship would never be the way it once was, but he did hint that a reconciliation was possible. When that would happen, neither of them would know.

But Luigi looked so somber right now that it pained the avian. He had to take a chance.

Steeling himself, Falco rose, his plate and drink in hand, and stepped over to where Luigi was seated, picking at his food.

“Hey,” Falco said quietly, getting Luigi’s attention.

Luigi looked up. “Hey,” he replied, a bit dully.

“Don’t be mad,” said Falco. “I don’t mean to harass you, and I’m not here to gloat about your recent misfortunes. It’s just—you look like you could use some company.”

Slowly, Luigi smiled. “Thanks, Falco,” he said.

Having obtained permission, Falco took a seat beside the man in green. A good start.

“A penny for your thoughts?” asked Falco once he’d settled in.

Luigi bit his lip, looking Falco over. He remembered when the avian had gotten in his face over his down throw, the feeling of betrayal. But gazing into his eyes, Luigi saw the remorse and the desire to start over. He’d explained the difficulty in that, but if Falco was reaching out to him—

It was only fair to take that risk, seeing that Luigi took initiative after they’d gotten stuck in the elevator.

“I fought my hardest in that castle,” Luigi said quietly. “I almost died for him. I almost died for Peach. And at the end, they all run to him and give him all of the credit. For thirty years, they’ve done this. What do I have to do to finally convince them?”

“Luigi,” said Falco. “Do you enjoy helping Mario?”

“Yes,” said Luigi.

“Then shouldn’t that be the only thing that matters?”

Luigi nodded. “I can keep the envy at bay because of that,” he said, “but the feeling of being perpetually stuck in his shadow, trying to break free—it gets to me sometimes. I proved myself twice when I saved his life. When those four men ganged up on him, I rushed to his defense. And yet it’s always the same—he gets everything and I…” He trailed off. “It’s only temporary. The feeling passes, and then I move on with my life. Because Mario’s life means more to me than petty jealousy.”

“You did the right thing when you intervened that day,” said Falco.

“MH disagrees,” huffed Luigi.

“He shouldn’t have suspended you,” Falco agreed. “Furthermore, why did they target Mario in the first place?”

“Because he wants answers,” explained Luigi. “Mario—he’s been through so much for me. He got himself in trouble for me. And that was why I was initially upset that he beat up the two Steves. Because I don’t want him to get expelled for my sake.”

“Answers—to what?”

“I think you know, Falco.” Luigi’s tone began to frost over.

“Your—nerf. I…” said Falco. “Luigi, I’m sorry.”

“For what? Are you saying you were involved in it, too?”

Falco dropped his gaze. “Oh, Luigi.”

“You actually helped _subvert_ this tournament rather than buckle down and practice?”

“Let’s—let’s not talk about this right now,” said Falco. “You’ve had a pretty trying night.”

“Either MH knows something about it—or CH does, which explains the attack on Mario,” said Luigi, “but nothing will stop Mario from finding out if someone manipulated MH just to hurt me. The longer you keep this hidden, the worse it’ll be for you.”

“Considering what he did to the two Steves after they attacked you, I don’t feel necessarily encouraged to tell him,” Falco said nervously.

Luigi softened his stance a little. “He doesn’t think you deserve another chance with me, but he won’t interfere if I decide to renew our friendship,” he said, “but you still need to tell him before he finds out on his own. I’ll convince him not to attack you and to hear you out. But I don’t think he’ll forgive you so easily. I know _I_ won’t.”

“Every day, I wish I hadn’t blown up at you the way I did,” sighed Falco. “It was immature, losing my temper over something so small. I wish I can undo the hurt I caused, but I can’t. But I wanna make this right, and I want us to start fresh.”

Luigi sighed. “Falco—I don’t know if I can let you back in. If I get hurt again, then that’s on me. And now the possibility that you participated in this plot…” He paused, and then his face lit up. Leaning into Falco’s ear, he whispered, “One of the conspirators has arranged a meeting with me and my bro, where he promised to tell us everything. It takes place in nine days. I think you should attend, Falco. You’ll have the chance to safely get everything off your chest. More conspirators will be present, as well.”

Falco looked around. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” said Luigi.

“I just…”

“I know, Falco. I know,” Luigi broke in.

“I’m just happy you made it back,” offered Falco. “Despite our differences, you know I’ll always come down on your side when Koopa strikes—because it’s the right side.”

Luigi smiled again, a warm smile. “Thank you, Falco. I appreciate that.”

“I’ll be there,” Falco promised in a low voice. “And at that meeting, I’ll tell all. I swear it.”

“Okay,” whispered Luigi.

Falco patted Luigi on the shoulder, took his food and drink and went back to his original seat.

**1.1.1**

Later in the feast, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory walked up to Mario, having psyched themselves up to perform their inevitable task. They found him engaged in intimate converse with Peach as they fed each other forkfuls of the cake she’d prepared for this occasion.

Remy cleared his throat. “Excuse me,” he said.

Mario and Peach looked up, lancing the quartet with a piercing stare. 

“I just fought a hulking reptile—I’m not about to deal with your…” Mario sharply began, but Jimmy gently stopped him.

“We didn’t come here to fight,” he said. “We came to talk to you. Explain things.”

“Well—you don’t have to explain anything to me,” said Mario. “How you made me feel when you said those things, when you continued beating and kicking me even when I was down, even though you knew that I was reeling from what had happened to my bro.”

“Mario, please,” said Remy. “We know we hurt you, and we’re sorry. Just—give us a chance to make it right.”

“You’re sorry,” Mario derisively repeated. “After what the two Steves did to Luigi, I was beside myself. I kept asking myself what I could’ve done to prevent it—to prevent this nerf, period. You took all of that and you turned it into a loaded weapon against me, and ‘sorry’ is all you have to say for it. Who was I to expect more?”

“Our blood was boiling…” began Timmy.

“And that made it okay?” Peach broke in, eyes flashing.

Mario stroked her hair. “I’ve got this,” he said quietly.

“Please, forgive us,” entreated Rory. “We promise…”

“Never to do it again,” finished Mario. “If I had a gold coin for each time I heard that…”

“C’mon, Mario—things got a little out of control. We’re trying to fix what we’ve broken,” said Remy.

“That’s your excuse—things got ‘out of control’. Well guess what? It doesn’t excuse what you did to me. It doesn’t excuse what you said to me. I don’t know what gave you the right to act like that, but given MH’s tirade that night and then your little stunt—I feel like an inadequate brother. If that’s what you wanted, then congratulations.”

“We didn’t—Mario, we didn’t…” spluttered Remy.

“Save it,” Mario said bluntly. “You don’t deserve my forgiveness, and if I had my way, then you’d all be fired. You must’ve felt like real men when you had me cornered in that room. But your fun is over now—and I sincerely hope with all my heart that this haunts you for the rest of your lives.”

Peach had a cold, regal glare for the four of them. “I think we’re done here,” she said sweetly.

Remy, Rory, Jimmy and Timmy opened their mouths for one final entreaty, but the stony faces before them dissuaded them from doing so. Thus resigned, they turned on their heels and filed out of the room.

Peach sighed deeply. “I hope that didn’t ruin anything,” she said.

“It almost did,” Mario said truthfully, “but I didn’t let it. How about some more cake?”

Peach couldn’t have agreed more.

**1.1.1**

Before Jimmy, Remy, Timmy and Rory’s apology attempt, Luigi had helped himself to some of the cake before retreating to his room, where he poured all of his thoughts onto his online blog while enjoying a glass of sweet wine. It helped somewhat, but even after he’d finished his entry, he was still quite wired. All of his clothes flew off in a blur, and then he slid into a pair of comfortable workout pants. Just the pants, the socks and nothing else.

His next course of action was to put on a playlist of 80s tunes, turning up the volume and then dancing away the rest of his angst and stress. He still sported some aches from the fight with Koopa, but they didn’t matter. All that mattered that he was about to burst apart, and he needed an outlet. And dancing had always been the best option. He was suspended anyway—it wasn’t like he had any matches to look forward to over the next week.

And when Luigi danced, he _danced_. Not for anyone’s viewing pleasure, but for himself. He danced angrily, frenetically, his body weaving and rolling and shimmying to the beat, the muscles in his abs and core working the hardest as he quickly broke a sweat. His eyes closed as he let the rhythm take him, changing his motions as the songs changed, a smile slowly forming on his face as perspiration beaded on his face, arms, shoulders and upper body, shining and twinkling in the sunlight slatting through the windows.

For hours, Luigi danced nonstop. And when his 80s playlist ended, he paused to catch his breath, take a swig of water and switch out the 80s hits for some Latin and salsa music. At that point, he forgot about everything else—about Falco and MH and the suspension and the nerf and the doubts and frustration and memories—and just broke down his body as the sweat dripped and splashed. That felt _good_. He spent the rest of the day in his room, dancing and dancing, his torso winding and swaying and swishing to and fro. Once _that_ playlist was finished, he played another and then another, dancing until he was all danced out.

Luigi flopped onto his bed, slathered in sweat, breathing heavily. His eyes fell on a small, white ghost dog watching him curiously—his beloved Polterpup. Polterpup apparently found his master’s dancing entertaining, for his mouth was open in a huge smile, tongue hanging out.

The sight of his Polterpup melted Luigi as he wiped his face, neck and upper body. “Come here, doggie,” he said.

With a happy woof, Polterpup leaped into Luigi’s arms and licked his face. Luigi laughed. Who knew that someone so skittish around ghosts would wind up adopting a ghost puppy? But Polterpup didn’t frighten him—when they first met, the spectral pooch was more of an annoyance. It didn’t take long for Polterpup to snatch Luigi’s heart, with him signing the adoption papers not long after their first encounter.

Now, Luigi lay on his bed, Polterpup curled up on his chest as he stared at the ceiling. His finger’s stroked the ghost puppy’s “fur” as he mused over how he could utilize this coming week. He wanted to aid Mario in his search for answers—but also, he needed some time for himself. So much had happened in such a short time. The nerf, the attack in the Training Area, the scrap with his brother, the fight in the empty lounge and now the harrowing fight with Koopa. The turtle had been especially ruthless, and Luigi could still hear his laughter as he attempted to use the green-clad plumber to “strike a bargain” with Mario, promising to stop inflicting punishment on him if he just walked away and let him be with Peach in peace. But Luigi had adamantly made the choice for Mario.

_“Don’t worry about me, Bro—just—save Peach…”_

He returned to the present as Polterpup nuzzled against him. And when he looked into the paranormal pooch’s eyes—

—he knew exactly where he wanted to go.

**1.1.1**

In Seattle, Washington, a young woman answered her cell phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Amy! It’s nice to hear your voice!”

“It’s good to hear yours, Rory. How’s working for Master Hand treating you?”

“It has its perks, but I just miss my little sister. Are you busy at the moment?”

“Not at all—in fact, my workload just lightened.”

“Then—you’ll be able to stop by? There are a few people I’d like you to meet.”

“Sure, Rory! I’ll catch the next flight out.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon, Amy.”

“You too, Rory. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Amy hung up and smiled to herself as she headed to the airport. She couldn’t wait to see the fabled Smash Mansion!

**1.1.1**

And in their Baltimore apartment, the four Bennigan Brothers lounged around, still lost in their thoughts. They couldn’t get last night’s sights and sounds out of their heads. The rumpus and ruckus as Koopa and his minions prepared to fight the Mario Bros. The fight proper—hearing the sounds of Koopa exchanging furious attacks with Mario and Luigi as the four made their escape. Peach’s voice, bravely cheering her rescuers on. And Luigi _screaming_ as Koopa _did_ _something_ to him as the battle grew more ferocious. If Luigi had screamed like _that_—then Koopa must’ve inflicted a lot of pain.

But most of all, they remembered Mario’s voice, frantically yelling Luigi’s name. And Luigi’s voice answering, telling him to prioritize Peach and get her back home while Mario steadfastly refused to leave his baby brother behind. And also—also—they remembered the man in green following Mario and Peach out of Koopa’s Castle, the Toad retainers barely looking his way as they reunited with their Princess. Luigi had looked so—exhausted and _hopeless_.

It was the look in his eyes and on his face which made the Bennigan Brothers realize what they’d done. That this was no longer some harmless fun—that their antics were taking a toll on him. For what reason they were hurting him so, they didn’t know anymore.

But they had to make this right. They had to.

As morning had turned into afternoon and then into evening, Vincent, Manny, Shane and Stuart realized what had to be done. They’d incur the wrath of a lot of people, but they’d also take the first step on the path to becoming better people. What other choice did they have, anyway?

They had to go to Master Hand and confess everything they’d done and how they’d manipulated him. They had to reveal the sordid details of Project Nerf before MH uncovered them on his own.

And after that, they had to admit everything to Luigi and pray that he’d be able to forgive them in time.

There was no other way.

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged a look, resolving to stop the senseless antagonism they’d helped start.

It would be a tough task to carry out.

But it would be done.


	13. T Plus 12 Days

Koopa was still in his castle, recovering from his defeat. The Mario Bros had spared nothing with him, and seeing that they were already in a bad mood before he’d made off with Peach, he shouldn’t have been surprised. The turtle didn’t know who’d dealt the worst pain—Mario or Luigi. He’d spent yesterday and most of today in his bed, watching TV as his minions treated his wounds with salve, bandages and ice. But he’d be back on his feet in no time; he’d wait a while and then try again. Part of him hoped that the Mario Bros would be in a better mood next time.

But, man—he’d come _so_ close! Their battle that night was among the most brutal throwdowns in MK and Nintendo history. The two pesky plumbers had been seething with anger, Mario with the heated, outward variant and Luigi with the cold, inward and calm variant. Standing there on the bridge, Koopa had fanned their fire with his taunts and defied them to do their worst. And that’s exactly what they did. Those two weren’t f—ing around anymore. Well, Koopa wasn’t, either. Vicious attacks had been exchanged, and when Koopa sneaked a look at Peach in her gilded cage, he’d noticed that she’d looked positively _aroused_ as she watched those two pound the living daylights out of him. And then came the moment where Fate had thrown him a bone, when he’d gained the upper hand over those two and began turning his attention on Luigi, hoping to use him as a means of persuasion.

“Surrender now,” he remembered saying to Mario with a smirk, “and there might be some of him left.”

He had seriously underestimated the potency of Green ’St—Luigi’s devotion to Mario.

Mario was nearly in a panicked state, and yet Luigi had looked at him with those blue eyes of his and told him to focus on freeing Peach instead. He would’ve allowed Koopa to thrash him to kingdom come if it guaranteed Mario’s safety. Even now, he could still hear Luigi’s voice, telling Mario not to worry about him and that he could take whatever beatdown Koopa saw fit to dish out. And then there was Mario’s glare as Koopa had tried to use Luigi to get him to stand down. The bone Fate had tossed his way had been cruelly taken from him as the plumbers managed to regroup and lay an epic smackdown on him.

Two days later, he still had the bruises to show for it.

“Someday, I’ll get the better of them,” Koopa vowed to himself, leaning back against his pillow. He remembered the grand scheme he’d revealed to Dorf and the Bennigan Brothers, his endgame—taking Peach as his bride. A smile formed on his face as he began to picture the beautiful blonde in the stunning Lochlady Dress, her hair swept up with a glittering tiara perched on her head, a bouquet of Piranha Plants in her hands as she walked down the aisle toward him. They would be married, and that would be that. The anticipation made this recent defeat a little bearable.

_Enjoy this victory while you can, plumbers_.

Kamek flew into the room. “Your Vileness?”

“Yes, Kamek?”

“You have a visitor.”

Koopa perked up. “Dorf?”

“Yes, Your Vileness.”

“Send him in.”

Kamek nodded and withdrew. A few moments later, Dorf walked in, bearing treats and a flower bouquet.

“Hey, buddy,” Dorf greeted.

“Hey!” laughed Koopa as the two of them shared a hug.

“Oh, my Din—those two worked you over,” gasped Dorf.

“Indeed—and I almost had the fight in the bag,” moaned Koopa. “I thought I could use Luigi against Mario, but I was wrong!”

Dorf tsk-tsked. “After what happened with those four guys, you should’ve known better.”

“Yeah. I should’ve.”

Dorf took a seat at Koopa’s bedside before unloading the treats.

“Has MH sent someone to get me?” asked Koopa.

“Not yet,” said Dorf, “but he’s implied that you’ll be in for it when you return. Even during a tournament, you just can’t resist.”

“No. I can’t.”

“Most of your co-conspirators from Project Nerf sided with those plumbers.”

Koopa huffed in resignation. “Of course,” he said. “They’re the heroes, and I’m the villain. Vanessa and her family—I don’t think they like me. They just tolerated me for the sake of a common cause.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. Vanessa is a Peach superfan, and her kids are into Super Mario games.”

“Wow,” mused Dorf.

“Tell me about it.”

The two villains shared the food Dorf had brought.

“CH’s little stunt opened up a can of worms,” said Koopa, “but it didn’t tell us who eavesdropped on us in the café.”

“Trying to find out won’t change anything,” said Dorf. “MH still has the proof. And he’s gonna go after all of us.”

“I don’t even know if we _want _to find out,” said Koopa.

Dorf thought this over.

“CH probably sent those four after Mario,” Koopa went on. “If he somehow discovered who eavesdropped on us, what would he do to the guilty party then?”

“Better not answer that,” shuddered Dorf.

“I’m about to tell you something—outlandish,” said Koopa. “These last few days have put things into perspective for me. And now I think that the best course of action is to confess.”

“You think it’s time to spill the beans to MH,” said Dorf.

Koopa nodded. “The truth—will set us free.”

“But how can we tell him, with CH hovering around?” asked Dorf.

“I’m up for taking that chance,” said Koopa, “because if we don’t tell MH, then someone else will.”

“What about the Bennigan Brothers?” asked Dorf. “You want to sell them out just to save yourself?”

Koopa shook his head. “I think they’re starting to realize that what they did was wrong,” he said, “but they’re reluctant to take that big step and confess. Maybe the next time they visit, we’ll talk it over.”

“We’ll tell them together,” said Dorf.

“I have better things to do with my time than try to keep something like this hidden,” said Koopa. “I’ll tell all to MH and those plumbers, take my punishment and then move on.”

“The wedding,” Dorf realized.

Koopa nodded. “If I’m honest—if I don’t try to rationalize what I did—maybe then Peach will warm up to me. Besides, going into a wedding with something like this hanging over my head would be bad luck.”

“Who—who are your wedding planners?” asked Dorf.

“A four-sibling team known as the Broodals. I’m going to meet with them later this month. Would you like me to introduce you?”

“I don’t see the problem in that,” said Dorf. “They’d probably want to meet the best man, anyway.”

“That reminds me—the Bennigan Brothers agreed to be my groomsmen,” Koopa joyfully reported.

“Then the Broodals might want to get us fitted for tuxedoes,” said Dorf. “Just let us know when they’re going to visit so we can change our schedules.”

“Right now, they’re saying that they’re coming over on the 25th,” said Koopa.

Dorf nodded. “I’ll make note of that.”

“And I already passed that along to the BBs,” said Koopa. “I’m glad they got out okay that night. But when we talked, they sounded a bit rattled. Who can blame them?”

“Right now, you need to focus on recovering from your latest throwdown,” said Dorf. “Then, we’ll talk about fessing up to MH, and then we’ll talk about the royal wedding. Deal?”

“Deal,” said Koopa.

The two villains shook on it before finding a good on demand movie to watch on TV.

**1.1.1**

Rory watched through the terminal window as the airplane made a smooth landing and taxied over to the passenger loading dock. As the passengers disembarked and began filing inside, he hung back, watching the sea of people streaming in, until he caught sight of a familiar young woman.

“Amy!” he called.

The young woman looked up, a delighted cry bursting from her lips when she saw her brother. She walked fairly fast toward him, notwithstanding the luggage she was toting, and jumped into his arms.

Rory laughed as he hugged his sister, and then kissed her on the cheek. “I missed you, too,” she said.

“Oh, Rory—I can’t wait to hear about your adventures,” said Amy.

“And I can’t wait to hear about yours,” replied Rory.

Brother and sister separated, and then Rory offered to help Amy with her luggage. She accepted, and they walked out of the airport, where a taxi awaited them.

“You’re gonna love the Smash Mansion,” Rory said during the drive. “All of your favorite Nintendo characters, living together under one roof. There are a few of them which I know you’ll _love_ to meet.”

“Like the Mario Bros?” asked Amy.

Rory swallowed back the rising guilt. “Yes,” he replied. “Like them.”

They arrived at the Smash Mansion’s entrance. After they paid the driver, Rory and Amy hopped out of the cab and walked through the doors, proceeding down a hallway into MH’s office.

“Enter!” boomed MH as Rory knocked on the door.

Amy and Rory walked into the office, where the giant glove sat, flanked by Rory’s three colleagues.

“Hello,” said Rory. “I’d like you all to meet my sister, Amy.”

“Hi, guys,” said Amy.

“Good afternoon, Amy,” said MH. “I am Master Hand, the Hand of Creation.”

Amy shook MH’s pointer finger. “Heard so much about you,” she said. “It’s amazing, bringing all of these franchises together to duke it out.”

“It’s not easy, but it’s worth it,” said MH.

“Hey,” said Remy. “Rory told me a little about you. My name’s Remy.”

“Nice to meet you, Remy,” said Amy, shaking his hand.

“And over here are our colleagues, Jimmy and Timmy,” said Remy as the aforementioned duo came forward.

“Hi, Amy,” said Timmy.

“Welcome to the Smash Mansion,” added Jimmy.

Amy shook hands with both of them.

“You couldn’t have come at a better time,” said MH. “We could use your help with something.”

“I’d do anything to help my brother, Master Hand,” said Amy. “What is it?”

“Let’s just say that—one of our Smashers has caused some headaches for us,” sighed MH. “He’s repeatedly tried to get me to give up confidential information, he got extremely upset when I suspended him over a justifiable cause—he took a golf club to one of my private vehicles. He apologized for all of that, but…”

“It’s not enough?” asked Amy.

Gravely, MH shook his head. “He needs to face the fact that actions have consequences,” he said.

Rory shifted uncomfortably, which Amy noticed.

“Rory—is there something you care to tell me?” she asked.

“My friends and I—we did something to this Smasher that we’re not particularly proud of,” Remy said slowly. “It all started—after Luigi got nerfed.”

Something clicked inside of Amy’s head.

“This Smasher—it’s Mario, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes,” Rory solemnly intoned.

“Okay, well—if Mario’s acting so strongly over this, then he’s just trying to protect Luigi, isn’t he?”

“We know that there were good intentions behind his actions, but the way he’s handling this affair is wrong,” said MH. “First, he wanted me to tell him the names of the people who complained to me about Luigi’s down throw combos. Then, two people attacked Luigi in the Training Area. I punished the attackers accordingly, but it wasn’t enough for Mario. He violently beat them the next day while they were minding their own business. I had no choice but to suspend him, and we had words. Two days after that, I tried explaining myself to him, and he responded by wrecking my private vehicle. Even though Mario cooled off and apologized to me, I don’t want him to think that it’s okay to do things like that just because he’s Nintendo’s mascot.”

“I see,” said Amy. “What happened next?”

“Crazy Hand roused us early one morning and told us that we had to discourage Mario from disrespecting MH’s authority again,” said Rory. “After breakfast, we cornered him in his room. There was a fight. It ended up in an empty lounge area. My blood started boiling, Remy’s blood started boiling—and we just—went crazy on Mario. We whaled on him, even when he could barely stand, and said these things to him—we showed no leniency. And then Luigi showed up…”

“By the time it was over, the Mario Bros’ trust in us was decimated, Mario’s suspension was extended, and Luigi himself was suspended,” said Remy. “Then, Koopa did his Koopa thing, and I presume that gave the Bros an opportunity to vent, but when we tried to apologize, he…” He trailed off regretfully.

“Why did CH ask you to do that?” asked Amy.

“He says that his brotherly instincts kicked in,” said MH. “I think it’s because he’s hiding something—something that has to do with Luigi’s nerf.”

“What Mario did was wrong,” conceded Amy, “but there was no reason to shatter his self-esteem. He apologized; he tried to make it right…”

“He took me out for pizza,” shrugged MH. “Pizza doesn’t change the fact that he put one of my vehicles out of commission.”

“You can always repair a car,” said Amy. 

“He still needs to answer for it,” said MH.

“Let me get this straight,” said Amy. “You’re remorseful over what you did to Mario—yet you want to antagonize him further?”

“We’re not antagonizing him,” said Rory. “Don’t get me wrong, Mario’s a nice fellow. But when he explodes, he’s one of the most dangerous plumbers on the planet. He’s not the Hero of the Mushroom Kingdom just because he has a nice mustache.”

“You—you think something else will set him off?” asked Amy.

Rory nodded. “I don’t think he’s happy that MH suspended Luigi, although I think deep down, he knows why. And his motives for finding out who wanted Luigi nerfed sound quite—sinister.”

“But doesn’t he deserve to know?” asked Amy.

“Yes,” said MH, “but after my investigation into this matter, I will release an official report to the public. He will find out all he needs to know then. But when I hear complaints, it’s with the unspoken guarantee that their identities will remain anonymous. I won’t break that unspoken promise in the name of petty revenge.”

“Revenge? Or closure?” Amy wanted to know.

“It could be both,” offered Rory.

“We need to be ready in case he flies off the handle again,” said MH. “The same goes for Luigi, too. When he saw what Remy and Rory were doing to Mario—it’s a miracle they’re still walking.”

“So—you want me to keep an eye on both of them?” asked Amy.

“I need you to help your brother and his colleagues keep an eye on them,” clarified MH. “If you see anything suspicious, don’t be afraid to report it to me. And if Crazy Hand instructs you to do something, run it by me first. Don’t engage either of them until we both give you clearance to do so. Understand?”

“Yes, Master Hand,” said Amy.

The other four nodded in agreement.

“He might never fully forgive us,” said MH, “but in time, he’ll understand that we’re not doing this to harass him.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Timmy.

“Rory,” said MH, “would you like to show your sister to her room?”

“Sure,” said Rory. “C’mon, Amy—you’re gonna love your new digs.”

MH and the others watched as Amy and Rory strode out of the office, hand-in-hand.

And next door, Crazy Hand watched them walk by, an unsettling smile slowly forming on his face—

**1.1.1**

“You’re packing,” observed Mario as he noticed the suitcase on Luigi’s bed.

“It’s not permanent,” Luigi assured him, neatly folding pairs of clothes before slipping them into his suitcase.

“Any idea where you’re headed?” asked Mario.

Luigi smiled. “I’m visiting an old friend,” he said, and Mario understood immediately.

“Give him my best,” Mario told him.

“Will do,” said Luigi.

“Are you—are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” sighed Luigi. “I just need some cooling off. I don’t have any matches to look forward to, so I might as well do something productive during my suspension.”

“Why didn’t you tell me MH suspended you?” Mario suddenly asked. “I didn’t find out until Lauren broke the news.”

“I was waiting for the right time,” said Luigi. “You’d just gone through a Hellish ordeal, and…”

“That doesn’t matter,” said Mario. “In my eyes, nothing is more important than your health and well-being. Nothing.”

_Yeah, that’s the same attitude that got you suspended in the first place_, thought Luigi.

“I can handle a nine-day suspension,” Luigi assured him. “I just—I need a break from the Smash Mansion, because I’m afraid if I look at MH again, then I’m gonna lose it.”

“You and me both,” said Mario, “but you shouldn’t be afraid to tell me things like that.”

_Why? So you can flip out and get yourself deeper in trouble?_

“I’m not afraid to tell you anything,” said Luigi. “I wanted to wait until you’ve calmed down to tell you.”

Mario nodded in understanding.

“I can still see you on the floor while they…”

“Let’s not talk about that anymore,” said Mario, cutting him off.

“But they left a mark on you. I could see it during our trip to rescue Peach.”

“They did. But the moment Peach was in my arms, I was reminded why she entrusted me to protect her people,” said Mario.

“I just don’t understand why we were the ones punished,” murmured Luigi.

“Me, neither,” said Mario.

Luigi zipped up his suitcase. As he turned toward Mario, the man in red wrapped him in an intense hug.

“Oh, Luigi…” Mario uttered as he felt Luigi’s arms encircle him in kind.

“Mario…” Luigi held Mario so closely that he could feel both of their hearts beating together. “I didn’t come to this choice lightly. I don’t wanna leave you here…”

“I’ll be fine,” Mario said softly. “If those four try something on me again, then I’ll be ready. Right now, you need to focus on yourself.”

_Practice what you preach, Bro_.

“Before you go,” Mario went on. “I want to thank you for what you did that night. Koopa was inflicting so much pain on you, and he was trying to use that as leverage. But you showed him that you were no leverage.”

“Koopa knows how much we care about each other,” replied Luigi. “I wasn’t about to let him weaponize that.”

“You were willing to take a beating for me and for Peach,” said Mario, “even after what I said. Why?”

“I would’ve let those four beat me into the ground if that was what it took to neutralize the threat against you,” Luigi said emotionally.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring it up at the feast yesterday,” whispered Mario. “I should’ve, but I guess I just let the praise get to my head…”

_Like you always do_, Luigi thought, but he hugged Mario more tenderly.

“I keep leaving you out, and—I’m sorry!” Mario wept, only for Luigi’s voice to put him at ease.

“Being left out hurts—but seeing you safe and sound eases the pain.”

Luigi’s breathing steadied as he felt Mario beginning to calm down.

“Luigi—I hope this trip helps you sort things out,” said Mario.

“Same here,” Luigi softly intoned. “Bro—don’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all of the stupid with you,” Mario said good-naturedly.

They remained in their embrace for a few more minutes before separating and smiling into each other’s eyes.

“See ya, Mario,” said Luigi.

“See ya,” the man in red replied.

Luigi watched Mario leave the room before making sure he had everything he needed. Then, he fished out his cell phone and scrolled down his Contacts list until he came across a number he hadn’t dialed in a while—

**1.1.1**

Crazy Hand sat in his office, the two Steves seated before them.

“I believe I’ve lost four potential allies,” CH was saying, “but I know I can count on you, right?”

“You bet,” Stevie replied. “We’ll make those two plumbers pay for what they did to us!”

“This is about more than revenge,” said CH, “but that’s—good incentive. I have a feeling that one of your co-conspirators is about to spill the beans about Project Nerf. It’s up to you to discourage them from doing so.”

“We’ll discourage them, never fear,” vowed Steve.

“Our main threats, however, are Mario and Chad,” said CH. “Mario’s encounter with Jimmy and his crew didn’t deter him from pursuing the truth, and Chad’s starting to slip his leash. It’s time everyone paid for their mistakes, yes?”

Grinning deviously, the two Steves nodded.

“With Luigi gone for most of the week, we’ll definitely have a blast,” cackled Stevie.

“While you do that, I’m going to go through that café’s surveillance footage and find out who listened in on Dorf, Wario and Koopa’s little talk,” said CH, “and we’ll take care of the eavesdropper together.”

“I’m really gonna enjoy this,” said Steve.

“Me, too,” CH told him.

“Mario had some b—s putting his hands on us,” growled Stevie. “We could do to him what we did to Luigi, but worse. But I know a better way we can get to him.”

“Let’s hear it,” smiled Steve.

Steve leaned into Steve’s and CH’s ears and began to whisper.

When he was finished, CH let out an evil giggle.

“Excellent,” he hissed.

Karma was headed Mario’s way, and it was gonna taste _so_ sweet…


	14. T Plus 13 Days

Being disassembled into pixels and traveling through cyberspace was still disorienting, even after two-and-a-half years. Landing on the ground at his destination, it took a while for Luigi to remember which way was up. When his head stopped spinning, he was relieved to see that he was in a familiar place and not in some nightmarish dimension, like _last_ time.

Luigi smiled as his elderly mentor spun around in a swivel chair to greet him.

“Luigi, my boy! It’s been too long!” Professor Elvin Gadd said jovially.

Luigi hopped to his feet. “Hello, Professor,” he said, the two of them shaking hands.

“When we spoke on the phone, I sensed that something was afoot,” said Gadd. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just—dealing with some stuff,” sighed Luigi. “First and foremost, my nerf.”

Gadd knew of Luigi’s participation in Smash, of course, and he streamed several of the plumber’s matches online. But he wasn’t too keen on the tournament’s lingo.

“I used to have all of these combos, and a lot of people were b—ing and complaining to Master Hand about it,” Luigi explained. “So, Master Hand met with the suits at Nintendo and had my playstyle modified so I wouldn’t have the combos anymore.”

“I—I heard a little about that,” confessed Gadd.

“After the nerf, everyone I’d beaten in a Smash match earlier came back for ‘revenge’. They laughed, jeered, taunted—did anything to humiliate me, but I wouldn’t let them. I wasn’t gonna feel sorry for myself. Instead, I practiced and used my nerf to make new combos. But some of them weren’t happy about that. Two of them physically attacked me while I was in the Training Room—I had to spend the night in the infirmary.”

“I hope they were punished,” said Gadd.

“They were suspended until they apologized, which they simply did to get un-suspended,” eyerolled Luigi. “I recovered quickly and discovered that a few of my old combos still worked, but I just had to tweak them a little. Still—I’ve been through a lot since the beginning of the month, and it’s starting to take its toll.”

Gadd raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like there’s more to the story?” he asked. “More specifically—why am I deducing that something happened between you and Mario?”

Luigi blinked. “How could you tell?”

Gadd smiled. “I just know.”

Sighing deeply, Luigi sat on the chair Gadd proffered him. “After I was attacked, Mario visited me, and I asked him to let MH deal with my assailants. He promised me that he would—and then he broke that promise.”

“There must’ve been a reason,” Gadd said gently.

“He told me that he overheard my attackers gloating about what they did, and that set him off. MH suspended him and—I guess Mario was upset, because he took it out on me. We got into it later that night, and he said some things…” Luigi couldn’t stop his sudden tears.

“Hey,” Gadd said softly. “I’m here.”

“He said—that I always needed him to bail me out and defend me, that I spend all of my time complaining that I don’t get enough credit, that my first response to anything bad is to sit around and cry and that if he wasn’t there to hold my hand during a dangerous situation, then I’d run away. And then—and then he told me that moping around is what I do best. I had to walk away, or else I would’ve…” He sobbed.

“Would you like me to fix you some tea?” asked Gadd.

“Please,” sniffled Luigi.

As Gadd heated up a kettle full of water, Luigi continued. “I couldn’t believe he’d say those things. For most of the next day, I was so upset and so angry. But I hate it when we fight, and being at odds won’t help the kingdom we’d sworn to protect. Late that afternoon, I managed to calm down and decided to fix some pasta we could share while talking things over. One of the Miis suggested bringing a little wine, as well. And on the way to Mario’s room, I met him in the hallway—he also had some pasta handy, and a band was walking behind him, playing my favorite song. We took our food and wine to one of the lounges and properly talked things out, but—sometimes, I can still hear those words at night, and I can still feel the pain. I can’t believe he said that, I can’t believe he thought that—even after I saved his life…”

Luigi picked out a tea flavor among the ones proffered. Gadd picked a flavor for himself before dropping the tea bags into two mugs.

“He didn’t try to excuse his actions, but he told me that MH had given him the third degree over confronting my attackers,” said Luigi. “I’m not gonna tell you what he said, but it was pretty awful. And just four days ago—four men claiming to act on MH’s behalf ambushed Mario. There was a big fight, and he was cornered in one of the lounges. They were just beating him and beating him and—the assault became verbal, as well. I walked in to find my bro on the ground, bruised, bleeding and in _tears_.”

The tea was steeping now.

“The men tried to make me leave the scene, but I wasn’t about to abandon Mario. When I saw what they did to him, all bets were off.”

“You defended him,” said Gadd. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, my boy.”

“Mario and I laid three of them out to dry, and the fourth, who appeared the most remorseful, retreated,” said Luigi. “If that wasn’t enough, then Koopa did his usual thing later that day, and we had to race through eight worlds to rescue Peach. During that fight, Koopa pulled a really underhanded trick and tried to use me as ammunition against Mario. That turtle just zeroed in on me and let me have it, making Mario watch. He told him that if he’d surrendered quickly enough, then there’d still be some of me left. But I wasn’t about to let Mario compromise his morals for my sake. I was willing to take all of that pain if it meant that my bro could do the right thing.” Gadd placed one of the mugs before Luigi. “Thank you.”

“But you won eventually,” said the professor.

“We did,” Luigi told him. “Three guesses as to who got all of the recognition in the end. Oh, I forgot to tell you—after that altercation in the lounge, MH suspended me for ten days, and he added ten days to Mario’s suspension. We didn’t do anything wrong—Mario was defending himself, and I was defending my bro!”

“Isn’t there a rule against fighting outside of scheduled battles?”

“Yeah, but certainly he could’ve made an exception,” huffed Luigi.

“This last week or so _has_ been rough on you,” said Gadd.

“Since I’m not allowed to fight in matches for ten days, I figured that maybe I should spend them in here in Evershade Valley,” said Luigi, “because I just can’t deal with Master Hand right now.”

Gadd nodded. “And maybe when you calm down, you can see the situation from a different perspective,” he said.

“I hope so,” said Luigi. “How’s your research coming?”

“So far, so good. My goal is to make observations on ghosts’ behavior by studying their energy.”

“How so?”

“Their energy is in liquid form, you see, so I’m trying to invent a painless method to extract the energy samples I need from them,” Gadd explained. “After that, I’ll conduct experiments to see how this energy will react to certain stimuli.”

“What about the ghosts? Are they willing to volunteer themselves?” asked Luigi. “After what the Boos did to them…”

“They know I won’t hurt them,” Gadd assured him, “just as much as I know they won’t hurt me. After what happened with the Dark Moon, we’ve learned to trust each other more than ever.”

“The Dark Moon—is it…?”

“Oh, yes. It’s still intact, and it hasn’t shattered after that one time,” said Gadd.

Luigi sighed in relief. “I already have enough on my plate,” he said.

Polterpup suddenly jumped into Luigi’s lap, licking his face.

“Hi, there,” cooed Gadd, petting Polterpup. “Nice to see you again. How’s it working out for you two?”

“It’s perfect,” said Luigi, rubbing the ghostly dog’s belly. “A dog really is a man’s best friend, even a _ghost_ dog.” He gave Polterpup a little kiss on the top of his head and watched as he scampered off.

Gadd looked closer at Luigi and noticed that familiar vacuum on his back. A huge smile broke out on his face.

“Excellent!” he cried. “I forgot to ask if you could bring the Poltergust 5000 along!”

“Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it,” said Luigi, “and I figured that you might want to perform some maintenance on it.”

He slid the Poltergust off his back as he spoke.

“You told me that you’re using it as your ‘Final Smash’ or whatever,” said Gadd. “How’s that coming along?”

“Swimmingly.”

“I know you’ve been asked this question countless times—but do you see yourself using it for actual ghost-fighting again?”

Luigi thought hard. “Something tells me that I do,” he said. Dropping his voice, he added, “He’s—he’s still here, right?”

Gadd knew exactly who Luigi was talking about.

“He is,” he replied.

Luigi’s face was pale and solemn, and in one smooth motion, he slid the Poltergust back on. “I need to see him,” he said.

“Of course,” nodded Gadd.

He pressed a button, and the duo was taken to the storage vault below the Bunker.

One of the containment units was empty. It used to be filled with ghosts, though, two years ago, but once the Dark Moon was repaired, Gadd had freed them, since they were once again benign. But the other containment unit was another story.

Luigi held his Poltergust at the ready as Gadd walked toward the unit in question and peeped inside.

“Here he is,” said the elderly professor, inviting his mentee to have a look.

Luigi hung back, Poltergust leveled, face like granite.

“It’s okay,” Gadd reassured him. “They can’t hurt you.”

Step by step, Luigi slowly advanced. When he reached the containment unit, he cautiously peeked inside along with Gadd, studying the many Boos floating about. Gadd moved aside so that Luigi could have a closer look and pinpoint the Boo he was looking for.

And then he found him.

_He_ hovered near the unit’s other side, his back to Luigi. Just the sight of that golden crown on the Boo’s head brought the unpleasant memories tumbling back. That unnerving, menacing cackle and the fiendish giggling of his brethren. Mario behind a canvas, beaten, bloodied and helpless, screaming for someone to help him. That suit, those claws, those flames. A dimension borne out of his worst nightmares, those horrible squiggles of pink and purple and that power-enhanced gem flashing as _he_ described, in intricate detail, what he was going to do to Mario and the rest of Luigi’s friends. His skin was clammy and sweaty, his heart seconds away from jumping out of his mouth, and he could barely breathe.

“Luigi,” Gadd was saying. “Luigi?”

But Luigi barely paid attention to him—it was as if his ears were filled with cotton as his eyes locked on the one who still tainted his dreams in the deep of night.

And then _he_ turned, violet eyes burning into his soul as he grinned mirthlessly at Luigi, so many threats and promises behind that grin. Before laughing that horrible laugh.

Luigi tightened his grip on the Poltergust and trained it on his mortal enemy’s leering face.

“Luigi,” said Gadd. “It’s all right. It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Gadd placed an arm around Luigi’s shoulders and gently steered him away from the containment unit.

“Thank you, Professor,” Luigi said shakily once they’d returned to the Bunker. “Thank you.”

_Don’t think about him. It’ll only cause you more stress. You came here to unwind, remember?_

Luigi situated himself in one of the Bunker’s guestrooms and quickly unpacked his stuff. Those infernal, violet eyes were burning themselves into his mind, that cackle echoing in his eardrums. There was only one thing that could calm him down. Flopping onto the bed, he fished out his cell phone, scrolled down his contacts, selected one particular name and pressed “Dial”.

**1.1.1**

“Good energy today!” said the Wii Fit Trainer as the morning’s kickboxing class wrapped up. “It’s time for us to get ready for our matches, but I hope to see you same time tomorrow!”

Blinking the sweat from his eyes, Mario grabbed his duffel bag and joined the rest of the Smashers in filing out of the studio. When he arrived at his room, he set down the bag, threw off his clothes and jumped into a refreshing shower. Just as he changed into clean clothes, his phone rang.

It was Luigi.

“Hey, Lil’ Bro!” Mario said when he answered.

“Hey, Mario,” Luigi replied.

“You’re in Evershade Valley now?”

“Yes. I just got settled in. How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” said Mario. “A little better than yesterday. And you?”

“I’m just looking forward to the week ahead, helping Gadd with his work and all.”

But Luigi’s voice sounded—delicate. Mario automatically knew that something was wrong.

“Luigi…” he began.

“Mario—I just need someone to talk to right now!” Luigi interrupted.

“I’m here—I’m here.”

“So many horrible people have put us through so much in such a short time—I thought I could take it, but I can’t!” Sobs.

“You can always talk to me, Luigi.”

“Why? Why did so many people want me nerfed? Why did the two Steves attack me like that? Why did those four men ambush you and say those things? Why _didn’t_ Koopa just wait before snatching Peach?”

“I don’t know, Luigi. I wish to God I did, but I don’t. But we got through. Peach is safe. And those four are regretting their actions—not that it makes things any better.”

“Why were _we_ the ones punished? What was I supposed to do, just walk on by while they cruelly abused you? And what were you supposed to do—lay there and take it?! What kind of show is Master Hand running here?”

“I don’t know that, either,” huffed Mario.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Bro?”

“I…” Mario trailed off. “No, Luigi. I’m not. I was too late to stop Steve and Stevie from putting you in the hospital. I was punished for defending you. I was raked over the coals by someone I thought I could trust. I can’t get over what those four said to me, because I can’t help but worry if they’re right. And what Koopa did to you—I still hear your screams. He was really hurting you, and he told me he wouldn’t stop unless I surrendered. You—you were gonna let him do that to you—for me.”

“Yes.”

“After what I’ve done and said?”

“Yes. Because you’d do the same for me. Remember when you stood up to that Star Gate when he encouraged you and our baby selves to leave me behind?”

Mario smiled. “I do.”

“You’re not the perfect brother, but you’re perfect enough for me. That’s all that matters.”

_Am I?_ thought Mario.

A thought struck the man in red. “You—saw _him_, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why? You didn’t have to put yourself through that again…”

“I did, Mario. I needed to see him locked in that vault. I needed to know that he’ll never be able to target you again. But I brought my Poltergust along, just in case.”

“And was he still there?”

“Yes. But I looked at him—and it all came rushing back. Everything he did to me, to you—and the fact that Master Hand brought _that_ up and insinuated that it was _your_ fault. I couldn’t move, and I could barely breathe. And then, he turned and looked at me—I’ll never forget that grin on his face for as long as I live. Along with the fact that he threatened my friends as well as you…”

“Did he say anything?”

“No. But just looking at him made me break, and I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Luigi…”

“Do you blame yourself for that night? Because I do.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m gullible. I let myself believe that mansions are given away in contests. I called you and told you to meet me there. I put you in danger.”

“I don’t blame you, Luigi. We were both tricked that night. And how could I hold you responsible when you fought your fears for me?”

“He still put you through so much…”

“If he hadn’t, then we wouldn’t have grown as people. I’d still feel invincible, and you wouldn’t have realized your hidden bravery.”

“You’re right,” said Luigi.

“Bro—I don’t want you thinking about him for the rest of the week. I don’t want you near him. You came to the valley to clear your head, not to rehash the past.”

“Yes.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You’ll get through this.”

“And so will you. Just think—we’ll have that meeting Chad promised us next week, remember? We’ll finally get the answers we’ve searched for. So no more antagonizing Master Hand, all right?”

“All right. I’m happy you called.”

“I’m happy you answered. _Ti amo_, Mario.”

“_Ti amo_, Luigi. Give Professor Gadd my regards.”

“Will do.”

The Mario Bros said their goodbyes and then hung up, both of them feeling ready to continue their day.

**1.1.1**

Master Hand sat in his office, going over some paperwork, when someone knocked on his door.

“Enter!” he commanded.

Amy and Rory walked in, escorting four well-dressed young men.

“Hi, Master Hand,” greeted Rory. “These four men have asked to see you right away.”

MH scrutinized the quartet. “Stuart Bennigan?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” said Stu, “and these are my brothers, Shane, Manny and Vince.”

MH offered a pointer finger to the brothers, which they shook.

“They said they wanted to confess something to you,” said Amy.

“Thank you,” said MH. “I’ll take it from here.”

Rory and Amy nodded before leaving the office.

“Now,” said MH. “How can I help you?”

Vince cleared his throat. “We did something,” he said. “Something terrible, and—we need to get it off our chests. Perhaps—we can speak in private?”

“What are you talking about?” asked MH.

“Well, you’re aware that some of the Smashers were salty over losing to Luigi, and they claimed that he was overpowered—but we don’t think he was. Well—not anymore. We used to,” said Vince.

“We—didn’t care much for Luigi,” Manny spoke up. “We don’t know why, but we just—hated him. So when we saw everyone fulminating about Luigi’s down throw combos on Miiverse—we wanted to help.”

“What—what are you trying to tell me?” MH wanted to know. “Does this have something to do with the recent update patch?”

“Yes, sir,” said Stu. “I wasn’t involved, but my brothers were.”

“A Smasher came to me and told me that there was a conspiracy behind this patch,” said MH. “Is—that true?”

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged a look. “Yes,” they said finally.

“And you were involved in it?”

Vince swallowed. “We—were the masterminds.”

MH went pale. “You can’t be…”

Shane shushed him. “Not so loud! He’ll hear you!”

“Who?” whispered MH. “My brother? He was part of this as well?”

“He helped finance it,” whispered Manny, “and he also arranged our nightly meetings.”

“My God—how could he possibly benefit…?”

“He says he was jealous of Luigi or something,” said Vince. “Anyway, we contacted the Smashers who were upset about losing to Luigi and told them that we had a plan to get Luigi nerfed.”

“By manipulating me?”

“Yes,” said Manny.

“I knew there was something off about this patch,” said MH. “Which of the Smashers were involved?”

“Well, Marth and Roy were among the first to join,” replied Vince, “along with Mewtwo, Dark Pit and Kyle. Koopa also joined, of course, and then the two Steves, Chase and Falco.”

“Falco…!” MH gasped in shock. “He had a little blow-up with Luigi over…”

“He was a bit reluctant, at first,” said Manny, “but he made his choice. And we think he chose wrong. We all did.”

“In addition, we also convinced other people to join,” Shane went on. “Dorf and Wario contributed from afar. Chad briefly joined, but he soon bowed out.” He took out a slip of paper and handed it to the giant glove. “He told us to give you this.”

It was a flyer, advertising the meeting he planned to host in one week, where he and the other conspirators would have the chance to confess.

“You should come, too,” whispered Stu, “but don’t tell your brother. He still thinks we did the right thing. Along with Steve and Stevie.”

“We heard that they cornered Luigi in the Training Room and beat him like…” Vince sighed. “We just want you to know—we didn’t condone that. At all.”

“We wanted to make it easier to defeat Luigi in a Smash battle,” Manny explained. “We didn’t want to give excuses for people to gang up on him.”

“Why would you do this?” MH wanted to know. “Manipulate me and the suits and subvert this whole tournament—just to hurt Luigi? You could’ve just practiced.”

“We thought we were doing the right thing,” Vince said regretfully, “but it turns out that we weren’t. Master Hand, if you’ll have us, we want to make this right. Just tell us how we can do that.”

“Tell me everything you know. All of the places you’ve met—and exactly what your plan entailed.”

“We don’t feel comfortable telling you in a place where the wrong person can listen in,” said Vince, “but we’ll tell you everything, never fear.”

“The suits—Sakurai—were they involved?”

Vince nodded.

“Was Sakurai aware of this plan when he contacted me?”

Another nod.

“Was he in on it?”

“When it was brought to his attention, he agreed to help us,” said Vince. “He has a personal vendetta against Luigi.”

“Oh, my God,” gasped MH. “This is higher up than I imagined.”

Suddenly, he heaved.

“Excuse me,” said MH, diving for his trash can and puking up more of that black substance.

“We’re sorry to spring this on you,” said Vince, “but recently, we’ve had our eyes opened.”

“We were staying with Koopa when the Mario Bros arrived to rescue Peach,” said Manny. “Long story short, Koopa helped us evacuate, but we stayed outside his castle and listened in on the fight. Luigi was taking so much punishment for Mario, and when we heard Mario cry out for his brother—it got to us. After they won, we saw the three of them walk out. Peach was in Mario’s arms, and Luigi—he was trailing behind them, looking so sad and vulnerable. The Toads didn’t even acknowledge him when they arrived on the scene, and even Mario seemed to briefly forget about him. That’s when we realized that we barely even knew Luigi. How could we hate and antagonize someone we barely knew? It wasn’t right. Hopefully, by coming forward, we can ease the pain we helped cause.”

“The best way to do that, I think, is by telling him directly,” said MH. “Will he be at this—occasion?”

“Yes, along with Mario.”

“Good. They’ll finally have the answers they’ve searched for,” said MH.

“What do you mean by that?” asked Vince.

“Mario’s wanted me to tell him the Smashers who complained to me about Luigi,” MH exclaimed, “but doing so would break my confidentiality rule. Maybe this development will get him off my back.”

Manny raised an eyebrow. “He already suspects something?”

“He does. Things are pretty tense between us. I suspended him after he got violent with Luigi’s attackers, and I snapped at him a little bit. Then, he thinks that I sent four men to strong-arm him into dropping the matter, but it was really…” He cleared his throat. “Luigi arrived and defended him against those men, but he was fighting outside of a tournament, so I had to suspend him for ten days, as well as add ten days to Mario’s current suspension. Then, Koopa did his usual thing, but I don’t see our relationship improving anytime soon.”

“Wow,” breathed Shane.

“Thank you for your honesty, though,” MH went on. “I will update the Smashers on this situation as soon as I can, and I promise to treat your report as confidential and anonymous.”

“Thank you,” said Vince. “That means a lot.”

“We’ll see you in a week,” said Stu.

“I look forward to hearing what you have to say,” said MH.

“And—could you also tell Luigi I’m sorry for what I did in the past?” asked Stu.

“You can tell him at the—occasion,” said MH.

“Okay,” said Stu.

MH watched as the four walked out of the office, hand-in-hand.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” asked Vince.

“No,” said Shane. “Not at all.”

**1.1.1**

MH didn’t have to worry yet—CH wasn’t in his office when the Bennigan Brothers were telling all. He was at the café where Koopa, Dorf and Wario had dined eight days ago, viewing the security footage from that afternoon. The two Steves were currently eating lunch, and CH occasionally glanced up and exchanged secret looks with the pair.

Focusing back on his task, the Hand of Destruction watched as Dorf, Wario and Koopa strode into the restaurant and situated themselves at a table. Not long after, Link and Zelda slipped inside and sat several tables across from them. Zooming in, CH saw the Hylian princess and her elf surreptitiously take out their cell phones, the former pressing only one button and the latter pressing several. CH quickly figured out that Zelda was recording the conversation, and that Link was texting someone—Luigi, who entered the restaurant about five minutes later.

The three obscured their faces with their menus, but CH already knew what they were talking about.

“Gotcha,” he said triumphantly.

Stealthily, he joined the two Steves at their table.

“Any luck?” asked Steve.

CH spoke to them in a low voice. “I found out who listened in on Koopa and his friends,” he reported.

“Who?” Stevie asked eagerly.

“None other than Link and Zelda,” said CH. “Then, they texted Luigi so he could come in and eavesdrop. I guess one of them must’ve passed the info on to my dear brother.”

Stevie whistled. “Something should be done about that,” he said.

“Indeed,” Steve chimed in. “It’s impolite to eavesdrop on private conversations.”

CH then stepped aside to make a phone call.

“Yes?” asked Dorf’s voice.

“Two old friends of yours trailed you, Koopa and Wario to that restaurant after you got back from your trip,” said CH.

“Link and Zelda?”

“How did you know?”

“They met me at the train station,” Dorf replied. “We have a—unique—dynamic.”

“Well, your ‘dynamic’ is about to get even more unique, because they not only listened in on your little gloating session but also tipped off Luigi and Master Hand. I thought you knew better than to brag about Project Nerf in public.”

“We destroyed the evidence, didn’t we?” challenged Dorf.

“That’s not the issue,” CH told him, “because you, Koopa and Wario just put my brother on our trail.”

“Hey, take it easy.”

“Don’t tell me to take it easy! If MH and the Mario Bros find out, then it’s over!”

“They’re gonna find out sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner,” Dorf calmly intoned. “We’ll take our punishment and then move on.”

“I seem to recall that the whole point of this was to keep people from finding out,” said CH.

“Trust me, nothing will stop those plumbers from finding out anything. Especially Mario,” said Dorf. “Thanks for telling me, though. Stay safe out there, CH.”

“Wait!” cried CH, but Dorf had already hung up.

CH returned to the two Steves’ table. “They don’t seem to care anymore,” he murmured.

“What?” asked Steve.

“I called Dorf with the news, and he sounded—cool with it,” said CH. “Well, we’re not.”

Stevie opened his mouth to say something, but then he saw a car pull into the restaurant’s parking lot.

“We’ll have to discuss this later,” he said. “Our guest has just arrived.”

CH nodded and then withdrew.

A young woman with light brown hair entered the restaurant and walked up to the two Steves. She shrugged off her coat and sat in the chair they generously pulled out for her.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” replied Steve. “Thanks for meeting us here.”

They shook hands, and then the woman took out a notepad and a tape recorder. She was an intrepid reporter working for Smash News, and her energy and commitment was vital to the two Steves’ plan.

“I understand—something happened to you at the Smash Mansion?” asked the woman.

Stevie and Steve wore matching grins.

“Oh, boy—have we got a story for you!” laughed Stevie.

**1.1.1**

“Will you be needing anything else?” asked the bellhop.

“No, that will be all for now,” replied Vanessa. “Thank you.”

The bellhop smiled and withdrew.

With a sigh, Vanessa flopped onto one of the beds, her husband and kids quickly joining her.

“I’m beat!” she announced. “I plan on sleeping for the rest of the day. How about you?”

“I’m kinda hungry,” said Ethan.

“Me, too,” said Anna.

Vanessa’s stomach growled. “Yeah—some food would be nice,” she conceded, “but why do we have so much junk?”

“You got me,” said Theo.

Vanessa turned to the kids. “I expect you to be in bed early tonight,” she said. “The first tour bus leaves at 9:00 tomorrow morning, and those busses fill up fast.”

“Okay,” Ethan and Anna said in unison.

“I still can’t believe it,” Vanessa told her husband. “We’re actually in the Mushroom Kingdom!”

This was a place she’d wanted to go for years. And what better time to do so, with the kids off track and Theo getting a paid vacation? Alas, this trip wasn’t entirely for leisure. Vanessa had decided it was time to tell Peach the truth about Project Nerf. After her latest run-in with Koopa, she deserved to know.

Yeah—if only it was _that_ easy.

But it would be done.

**1.1.1**

Night fell over Evershade Valley, and the many ghosts happily flew and zipped about the sky, playing with each other. Luigi lay on a blanket spread out on the grass, watching them. Presiding over everything was the Dark Moon, the violet gem hovering and glowing among the stars. As long as it was intact, Luigi had nothing to worry about.

The stress from the past week began to slip away, from the first hours of the new patch to the incident in the Training Area to the harrowing fight with Koopa. Those memories were clinging to him, but he’d started shrugging loose from their grip. He breathed in, and then out, savoring the fresh valley air. Long ago, he never imagined he’d be comfortable in an area swarming with ghosts, but here he was. These particular ghosts were friendly, but still.

Luigi closed his eyes, listening to the ghosts’ laughter and his breaths falling into an even rhythm. He honestly couldn’t wait to see what Professor Gadd had planned; hopefully, there was a way he could help. And maybe he could explore those five mansions on his own terms. The Poltergust 5000 would be on his back, but only as a precaution. Friendly ghosts or otherwise, something told Luigi that he needed his Poltergust handy whenever he was on a Gadd-related adventure.

Something tapped him on the nose.

His eyes snapped open.

A Greenie hovered over him, grinning and waving at him, before chattering something and pointing somewhere.

“Wha…?” Luigi uttered.

Something else hoisted him off the ground, and he found himself on a Slammer’s back. Luigi held on as the Slammer flew him across the valley, with the Greenie in the lead.

“Where are we going?” asked Luigi.

The Slammer gently descended and deposited Luigi at the Gloomy Manor. More specifically, the Gloomy Manor’s front porch. A group of Greenies, Slammers, Hiders and the Poltergeist from the library was clustered around another visitor. Luigi looked closely at this visitor—and he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Hey, Luigi,” said Falco. “It looks like I’m already popular with the locals.”

“How…?” Luigi began, and then something clicked.

_Professor, you sly son of a gun…_


	15. T Plus 14 Days

“Rise and shine!” Vanessa said brightly as she roused Ethan and Anna from their sleep. “Time to get ready for a day of touring and exploring!”

Ethan sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Ten more minutes,” he mumbled.

“Then I guess you don’t want a pancake breakfast in the hotel lobby,” said Vanessa.

Anna bolted up. “You had me at pancakes!” she laughed.

The two kids patiently waited for Theo to finish shaving and gargling with mouthwash before heading into the bathroom and washing their faces. While this was going on, Vanessa unmuted the TV, she and Theo watching the early morning news as they got dressed.

“When are you gonna tell her?” asked Theo.

“She’s still recovering from what happened,” said Vanessa. “It would be cruel to spring this on her now. I’ll confess everything—when we’re both ready.”

“Better for her to hear it from you than from anyone else,” Theo said gently.

“I agree,” mused Vanessa.

Anna and Ethan finished their toilette and excitedly wrestled into their clothes.

“Remember,” Vanessa told her son and daughter. “We’ll be aboard a ‘hop-on, hop-off’ tour bus. At certain stops, we’ll be allowed to disembark and walk around. However, don’t hop out of your seats until your dad and I give the signal—and please, try to behave yourselves.”

“We will,” the two kids said in unison.

After the weather report, Vanessa turned off the TV, and the family went downstairs for breakfast.

The smell of pancakes beckoned them toward the lobby, where most of the other hotel guests helped themselves to the aforementioned breakfast item. Theo, Vanessa and their kids found themselves a relatively quiet table, just as the hotel employees set out a fresh batch of pancakes. There were a variety of syrups and toppings to choose from, and to wash it down was some ice cold, wholesome milk. Ethan and Anna were instructed to take only two pancakes each during their first trip, and then one pancake if they had room for seconds, so they wouldn’t waste anything. Thankfully (for the parents, at least), the two kids’ appetites were satisfied rather quickly.

After washing their hands, the family of four put on their jackets and exited the hotel. It was time for them to meet their tour bus.

**1.1.1**

Amy sat in the Smash cafeteria, her eyes surreptitiously on the man several tables away. As she observed him, she had no idea who was in the right and who was in the wrong—or if both parties were in the wrong. She knew that it was wrong for Mario to take a golf club to a car, and it was completely out of character for him. But it was also wrong for Rory, Remy and their colleagues to gang up on the little man and attack him over that. The four men at least admitted their wrongdoing and apologized, but Amy knew that it would take a while for Mario to regain his trust in them—if he was able to do so at all.

But since Mario made it clear that he wasn’t about to let this go, Amy was worried for Rory. What if the man in red pushed back against Rory, attacked him unprovoked like he’d attacked the two Steves unprovoked? Unlike the latter two, Mario would have no justification for going after Rory just because his pride had been wounded. Rory had been such an awesome big brother to her, and she wanted to repay him by being a cool little sister to him. As such, she hoped to stop Mario before he escalated the conflict between him and Rory, or better—try to negotiate peace between the two.

Rory’s voice crackled over her hidden earpiece. “What do you have for me?”

“Nothing to report,” she replied. “He’s chatting up Peach.”

“What are they talking about?”

“Rory—is that really necessary?”

“How do you know they’re not plotting against Master Hand?” Rory shot back.

“I don’t recall you being _this_ paranoid,” chuckled Amy.

“Working for MH changes a person,” said Rory. “Try to listen in on their conversation—if you can.”

“Very well.” Amy listened hard for a few moments, and then reported in. “Right now, they’re talking about her recent stay ‘in another castle’.”

“Good—good,” said Rory.

After some more listening, Amy picked up that Luigi was vacationing in Evershade Valley.

“That doesn’t sound suspicious at all,” Rory told her when she passed along the info. “I’d want to take a break myself if all of that [bleep] happened to me in the space of ten days. Keep your eye on Mario for now.”

“Okay,” said Amy.

She sat back and finished her breakfast while continuing to pick up key snippets from Mario and Peach’s conversation.

In another part of the cafeteria, Marth sat with Roy, Mewtwo, Rolf and Chase.

“Have you guys seen Falco?” he asked.

“Not since yesterday evening,” said Rolf.

“He failed to mention he was taking time off,” said Marth.

_I overheard him in MH’s office_, Mewtwo put in, _talking to him about something._

“Give him some credit,” said Chase. “Maybe he needs some time for himself. To—think.”

A beat.

“Yeah,” Marth said after a while. “We all need time to think.”

Another beat.

“Hey, remember when Luigi took on those Wireframe fighters in 15-Minute Melee?” asked Roy. “That was bad—s.”

“Yeah—and he was the first Smasher to attempt that,” Marth recalled with a wistful sigh, “but you wanna know what was more bad—s? His performance in Event 51!”

Mewtwo winced. _You don’t have to remind me_, he said.

“Guys—I just think about what happened that day,” said Marth, “and I remember exactly what drew me to Luigi in the first place—his selflessness and his love for his sibling.”

His companions muttered their assent.

“When I was still in Altea, word got out fast about—the mansion,” Marth went on, “and all I could think was, ‘Holy [bleep]. I’d love to fight alongside a man like that’. And I did.”

“I found out shortly after my father died,” said Roy. “I was going through a bit of a crisis, and hearing about a not-so-brave man doing something that big helped restore my faith.” He turned to Marth. “Alongside you, of course.”

_It restored a lot of people’s faith,_ intoned Mewtwo. _We all needed someone to believe in, given what happened a month before that. And then he faced me, Dorf and Giga Koopa in Event 51—wow. He was a worthy opponent, indeed._

“Then, Brawl happened,” Marth said fondly. “I wish you were there to see how bad—s he was against Tabuu. Luigi, of all people, held out the longest against him—and he was the one who suggested dodging those Off Waves. He even landed the final blow!” His face fell. “Where did it all go wrong?”

“I guess we’re the ones to blame,” sighed Rolf. “We became proud and arrogant and started taking people like him for granted. So caught up in our pursuit for personal glory…”

“Time and again, people have ripped on Luigi for his personality and for being the second player, and we just—wound up swept in their rhetoric,” said Chase. “When he started overwhelming us with his down throw combos, I don’t think we could digest it.”

“We should’ve practiced,” said Marth. “Instead, we threw hissy fits and got him nerfed. And now look what’s happened because of it.”

“Do you think he’ll forgive us?” asked Roy.

“I have hope that he will,” said Marth, “but it won’t be easy. Both sides will have to put in effort to make this work out. The hardest part is taking that first step—confessing.”

Silence.

_You’re_ _right_, Mewtwo said after a while. _After things settle down, we’ll take Luigi aside and tell him everything. Perhaps we’ll convince the Bennigan Brothers to do the same._

“They will—in time,” said Rolf. “They’re attitude started changing shortly after the stunt the two Steves pulled.”

“And what about Crazy Hand?” asked Chase.

“[Bleep] him,” said Marth. “Did you hear—he sent those four guys to beat up Mario.”

“Yeah, we heard,” said Rolf.

“Let’s—leave him out of this for now,” Marth told them. “I’m getting a _bad_ feeling about him.”

_How so?_ Mewtwo queried.

“Crazy Hand favors chaos over order,” Marth explained, “and there’s been some chaos in the wake of Project Nerf. I fear that CH is enjoying this a little _too_ much—and that he’ll do anything to keep the truth from getting out.”

The other occupants of Marth’s table traded looks. In between confessing to Luigi and dealing with Crazy Hand—the former was starting to look better in comparison.

**1.1.1**

“Professor—I know that you mean well,” said Luigi. “I know why you invited him over. But—I’m just having a hard time getting over what he said.”

The man in green sat with Gadd and Falco inside the Gloomy Manor’s lab, the avian looking minutely nervous as Luigi spoke. Of course, he didn’t expect Luigi to react positively to seeing him here, but as Luigi recalled their heated exchange, he couldn’t help but be worried.

“The two of us had been friends since Melee,” Luigi went on. “He was the last person I expected to go off on me over my combos, which is why it hurts so badly. I tried to hide it, but his words made me feel—that maybe the others were right about my playstyle. That it was—wrong.”

Falco stared at the ground.

“I should’ve talked it over with you first,” Gadd conceded. “I’m sorry. But—all I want is for you to at least talk to him.”

“We—kinda did,” said Luigi, “when the elevator we were in lost power. Falco tried to make small talk, but—I just couldn’t hold it in anymore. A voice in my head told me to take a risk and talk to him. And it paid off. First, Falco tried to make excuses, but when I asked him why he said what he said—he finally gave me a straight answer, that he didn’t know.”

“And I didn’t think,” murmured Falco.

“I can’t reconcile the affable ace pilot of Star Fox with the bird who threw a hissy fit just because he lost to me,” Luigi said quietly. “He could’ve practiced or found a sparring partner or learned from the loss. That’s what _I_ did. That’s how I got those combos. I didn’t just wake up one morning knowing how to pull them off. Because I started out at the bottom of the tier list, remember?”

“Look, Luigi,” said Falco, “after what happened, I figured that if we were both away from it all, then we’d have time to disconnect and try to sort out this mess. I think that’s where Professor Gadd is going with this.”

Gadd nodded. “It sounds beneficial to you both.”

Luigi bit his lip. “I miss you, Falco,” he said.

“I miss you, too,” Falco confessed. “That morning, when we were looking over our schedule, I wanted to talk to you, but you were so—aloof.”

“I’m aloof because I’m afraid,” said Luigi. “I don’t wanna get hurt again.”

“You said that you took a chance in that elevator,” Falco told him. “Don’t you wanna take a chance here, in the peaceful Evershade Valley?”

Falco’s question gave Luigi pause, but the avian could see the answer in his eyes.

“Luigi, my boy—I brought Mr. Lombardi over because—I can’t bear the thought of you holding grudges,” Gadd explained.

“It’s okay, Professor,” said Falco. “You can call me Falco.”

“I get that you’re looking out for me, and I thank you for it,” said Luigi, “but I don’t hold grudges. At least—I try not to.”

“That’s—precisely why I invited Falco here,” said Gadd. “Maybe if you two spent some time together—you’ll be able to open up to each other and talk things out. And maybe you can let go of that grudge. Because if you let it fester inside you for years—it can eventually take you over—turn you into someone _awful_.” Gadd shuddered, and Luigi knew exactly what he was saying.

“_He_ has always had it in for me,” said Luigi. “And he won’t drop that grudge because he genuinely enjoys tormenting me.”

“That’s not the point,” said Gadd. “My point is that although you and Falco might not be close friends again, you can’t spend the rest of your days holding this against him.”

“I—suppose the rift between us is my fault, as well,” Luigi said after thinking Gadd’s words over. “I didn’t speak to him for nearly a month after it all went down; I was reluctant, and I was also worried that I’d lash out and say or do something I’d regret. But maybe if I’d took that chance sooner…” He cleared his throat. “I think that at this point, we could get a semblance of our friendship back. But Falco, you’ve got to understand—it’s just—it’s never gonna be the same. I can forgive if I try hard enough, but I can’t forget. And neither can Mario.”

Falco winced at the mention of the man in red.

“That was another thing that rubbed me the wrong way—you were shirking from Mario, like you were trying to evade responsibility.”

“Can you blame me for being wary of him?” asked Falco. “Given what he did to the two Steves and to MH’s car—I have good reason to be afraid.”

“I’ll convince him not to attack you,” said Luigi, “but you’ve got to understand that he’s my brother. Of course he’ll be angry if someone hurts me. I’ll definitely be on the warpath if someone injures _him_.”

“Luigi—I didn’t mean to push, and I know that you retreated here to think. I just thought—I’d try. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.” Falco rose from his chair. “I guess I’ll go now…”

To his surprise, Luigi stopped him. “Wait,” he said. “The Professor’s right. We should spend some time together, cooling our heels. It’s worth a shot. But if you really want to make this work, then I need you to meet me halfway. Can you do that?”

“I—can try.”

“Don’t try,” said Luigi. “Do.”

Falco smiled. “Okay.”

Luigi smiled back. “Okay.”

**1.1.1**

Master Hand was in his office, doing some work on his computer, when Timmy rushed in, a disbelieved expression on his face.

“What is it?” asked MH.

“The paper!” Timmy gasped out, holding out a copy of _Smash News_ to him. “You’re really not gonna believe this!”

MH took the newspaper, and what he saw on the front cover sent his mind into a tailspin.

JUMPED BY JUMPMAN! TWO SMASHERS INJURED AND TRAUMATIZED BY VICIOUS ATTACK BY NINTENDO’S MASCOT!

“They’re saying—that he planned everything,” said Timmy.

MH was silent as he read through the cover story, the two Steves’ beaten faces taking up one full page each. When he finally addressed Timmy, his voice was calm and soft.

“Thank you, Timmy. I’ll take care of it.”

Timmy nodded before departing.

MH then reached over and pressed his intercom.

“I want Mario in my office yesterday, and he’d better not make the mistake of keeping me waiting!”

**1.1.1**

Mario was currently in Chad’s room, listening as the New England native talked about his predicament.

“I was only involved for two days, but that still makes me part of it,” Chad was saying. “Now, CH, Steve and Stevie want me to participate in their next plot, and they’re using the evidence as collateral.”

“This next plot—is ‘Operation Ballot Box’?” asked Mario.

“Yes,” replied Chad. “Thankfully, there’s talk that the three brothers involved in Project Nerf are planning to call it off.”

“The Bennigan Brothers,” said Mario.

Chad nodded. “If you heard it from them, then you’d be out for blood,” he said. “I’m glad I didn’t mire myself in too deep before stepping away, but Crazy Hand is insatiable! For whatever reason, he has it out for Luigi, and we need to stop him.”

“He’s the one who sent those four men after me,” Mario told him. “Master Hand is working to implicate him in supporting Project Nerf, but it’s not gonna be easy. I can protect you in the meantime. Now, about your meeting…”

Chad shushed him. “CH could have eyes everywhere,” he warned. “I don’t feel comfortable talking about it in the Smash Mansion. But I can tell you that I have a venue in mind. Once I get everything secure, I’ll tell you.”

“Wow, Chad—I can’t believe that joining with them was your first choice.”

Chad dropped his head. “I didn’t think. I acted in the heat of the moment.”

“I’ve done that, too,” said Mario.

“I don’t want to keep you hanging for six days, so…” Chad pressed a flash drive into Mario’s hand. “These are photos, videos and audio recordings of the Project Nerf meetings—as well as the addresses of the locations. They’re mostly restaurants, and the staff assured me that they’ll happily tell you everything you need to know. But the meeting—that’s gonna be the main event.”

Mario’s fist closed around the flash drive before he slipped it into his pocket.

“I also have a friend, Jeff, who works closely with Mr. Sakurai,” said Chad. “He’ll be present at the meeting, as well.”

“About that—MH, Luigi and I are starting to suspect Mr. Sakurai, as well,” said Mario.

“CH and Mr. Sakurai are powerful people,” cautioned Chad, “and by extension, quite dangerous.”

“I can handle them,” said Mario.

“You still need MH in your corner,” said Chad. “Otherwise…”

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” asked Chad.

“It’s Lauren.”

“Come in,” said Mario.

Lauren walked inside, her face grave. “Hey, Mario,” she said.

“What’s the matter?”

Lauren swallowed. “Master Hand wants to see you in his office,” she said.

“Now?” asked Mario.

“_Now_.”

Mario heaved a sigh as he stood up. “Thanks for telling me all of this, Chad,” he said.

“I hope one day you can forgive me,” said Chad.

“Well, that depends,” said Mario.

“Just—lay low for now, okay?” entreated Chad.

“Very well,” said Mario.

He turned and followed Lauren out of the room.

**1.1.1**

Lauren poked her head into MH’s office. “Here he is, Master Hand,” she said.

“Good. Send him in,” MH tersely commanded.

Warily, Lauren pulled open the door, and Mario stepped inside.

“Thank you, Lauren. You may go,” said MH.

“Okay,” Lauren said softly before she withdrew.

MH and Mario regarded each other for a few moments before the latter spoke.

“Hey, Master Hand,” greeted the portly plumber.

“Don’t ‘Hey, Master Hand’ me,” said MH, his tone severe but not angry. “Please, have a seat.”

Mario obliged. “Is—something wrong?” he calmly asked.

“Oh, something is definitely wrong, all right,” boomed MH. “Would you kindly do me the favor of explaining _this_?” He tossed the copy of Smash News before Mario.

“Wha…?” Mario breathed as he stared at the front page.

“You lied to me,” MH said firmly.

“No, I didn’t!” balked Mario.

“Well, according to the paper, you premeditated the attack on Steve and Stevie,” said MH. “When I first confronted you about it, you told me that you were going for a walk when you came upon them gloating about what they did to Luigi. And now—I understand why you went on that walk. You needed a cover—an excuse.”

Mario glared. “That’s not true!” he said hotly. “I wouldn’t plan out something like this! I’m not the one telling lies—the two Steves are!”

“Judging by what you did to my car—I wouldn’t put a premeditated attack past you,” said MH.

“Master Hand, I’m telling you—I didn’t plan to beat up those two! I was minding my own business when I found them gloating, and I tried to hold it in, but…”

“Ah, yes. The same old song,” scoffed Master Hand. “You lost control and felt this _irrational_ need to defend Luigi. You _always_ have to avenge every slight committed against him; you always have to bail him out. Why don’t you let him fight his own battles for once?”

Memories of that heated exchange ten nights ago swept across Mario’s mindscape. “It’s not like that!” he thundered at MH. “It _isn’t_! I had good reason for what I was doing, and that’s the truth!”

“You and the truth, playing the part of the hero, saving the Princess together,” huffed MH. “I live in the presence of great truth. And _this_…” He waved the paper in Mario’s face. “…is the truth that you left behind.”

Roughly, Mario shoved the paper away. “I’m telling you, that paper is lying,” he said.

“And I’m telling _you_, I know that you’re more than capable of doing that,” MH shot back. “Stalking Steve and Stevie throughout the day and waiting for the perfect moment to strike so you could feign innocence. So you could claim that you did it for Luigi. Bull. You did it for _you_.”

Mario turned scarlet and clenched his fists.

“I am no longer treating you with kid gloves just because you’re Nintendo’s mascot, Mario. And I will _not_ see this tournament dragged through the mud just because of your constant need to coddle Luigi! Why did you do it—to make up for your own shortcomings as a brother?!”

Mario gaped. “Here we go again, Master Hand!” he cried. “Why would I _want_ to deliberately plot an attack on those two?! They weren’t worth it! I was perfectly content with waiting for the opportunity to fight them on the battlefield, but then they just had to…”

“Don’t. Blame. Them,” said MH. “I never thought you would stoop this low and then play the victim about it, but I guess I thought wrong. You are suspended indefinitely, and you’d better be sure that I’m notifying Toadsworth about this.”

Mario’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t _possibly_ entertain the thought of believing those two,” he said. “Can’t you see what they’re doing? They’re trying to discredit me!”

MH sighed heavily. “I—I don’t know who or what to believe anymore,” he said. “But I actually believed you were better than this.”

“D—n you, Master Hand, don’t say that!” Mario exclaimed. “You have to believe me! I didn’t mean to attack the two Steves—it just happened!”

“Fool me once, shame on you—fool me twice,” huffed MH. “I really hope this made you feel better about yourself, because you single-handedly put the spirit of Super Smash Brothers at stake. If I so much as _sense_ you coming within a mile of Steve or Stevie, then I’ll have you dismissed from the tournament entirely.”

“Oh, yeah? How about I quit?!”

“Maybe you should! Maybe you _should_ quit, so you can get your priorities straight for once! You’re not as good as you think you are when it comes to fighting! You don’t even know how to be a brother! I hope you rot in Hell! You stinking [bleep]! You…”

Mario screamed with rage and lunged at Master Hand, tackling him to the floor and sending punch after punch into him.

“You _figlio di p—a_! You have no right!” Mario bellowed as he unleashed his pent-up plumber rage.

The door flew open, and Lauren, Chad and Charlie rushed onto the scene.

“J—s!” Charlie exclaimed. “What’s going on in here?!”

“Mario, for God’s sake, stop!” shouted Lauren, dashing over and dragging Mario off of the Hand of Creation.

Charlie and Chad rushed into action, pulling Master Hand away. The two of them struggled against the people holding them, trying to get at each other.

“We’re supposed to be in this together!” admonished Chad. “Get ahold of yourselves, please!”

“Oooh—that’s rich, coming from the guy who wanted my brother _nerfed_!” screamed Mario.

“Hey! I apologized, didn’t I?”

“It’s just not good enough, okay?!” Mario broke into sobs. “It’s—it’s just good enough…”

Lauren pulled him into a hug as MH stopped struggling against Chad and Charlie’s grip.

“He—he’s right,” said the giant glove. “Wh—what are we doing, Mario? Why are we tearing each other apart?”

“You started it,” hissed Mario.

“Well, I’m ending it,” MH said firmly. Softening his voice, he added, “Maybe the two Steves _are_ the ones lying to get sympathy and attention. But right now, I just don’t know. I’m taking back the indefinite suspension, but make no mistake, Mario Jumpman, I’m keeping my eye on you from now on.”

Mario began to calm down, and Lauren withdrew her hold on him as Chad and Charlie did the same with MH.

And then the Hand of Creation lurched forward and threw up some more of that black stuff.

_“Dio_!” cried Mario, completely forgetting the altercation that just occurred. “Master Hand, are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” MH assured him.

“I shouldn’t have stressed you out,” sighed Mario. “I…”

“It’s not your fault,” said MH. “It’s been going on since the new update patch was released. Mario, I—I am _so_ sorry. I can’t believe I flew off the handle like that again. What can I say? I guess I just—lost my mind.”

“Everybody loses their minds sometimes, Master Hand,” Mario said quietly.

Gingerly, MH held out a pointer finger to Mario. Hesitatingly, Mario shook it.

“We’ll talk this over tomorrow—properly,” said MH. “Deal?”

Mario smiled. “Deal.”

As Lauren and Mario walked out of the office, MH couldn’t help but wonder—was the black substance causing him to act so aggressively? And where did it come from?

**1.1.1**

Meanwhile, Crazy Hand viewed the surveillance footage from five days ago, trying to root out the person who tipped off Mario and took away, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory’s element of surprise. He saw the Smashers bustling about in the lobby, preparing for their matches. Then, the four men appeared, jogging in a single-file line toward Mario’s room. And then they paused to briefly talk to one of the Smashers.

Peach.

CH zoomed in on the Mushroom Princess as she exchanged a few words with the four men. As they departed the lobby, the Hand of Destruction watched as Peach took out her phone, dialed a few numbers and then put the phone to her ear.

_She was calling Mario._

_ She was the one!_

CH gave Peach’s image a wicked smile. “Gotcha,” he said.

Then, he picked up his own phone to call the two Steves.

**1.1.1**

“Are those two gonna be okay?” asked Charlie.

“Hope so,” replied Chad.

“I know Mario didn’t plot the attack on the two Steves in advance,” said Charlie. “That’s not his style.”

“Why would the two Steves lie to the newspaper?” Chad wanted to know. “Petty revenge?”

“Maybe,” murmured Charlie.

“MH should consider himself lucky that Luigi’s in Evershade Valley right now,” said Chad.

“Yeah,” laughed Charlie.

“Before Mario was called to MH’s office, I confessed to him,” said Chad.

“Really? How’d he take it?”

Chad shrugged. “It’s hard to tell,” he said. “I guess I’ll have to wait for it to fully sink in before the other shoe drops.” He cleared his throat. “In other words—I’m going to Sarasaland.”

“What’s going on there?” asked Charlie.

“That’s where I’ve decided to—you know,” said Chad, worried that CH or the two Steves could be listening in.

Charlie understood instantly.

“I’m catching a flight out later tonight, and the airline is having a promotion where a companion gets to fly for free.” Chad smiled. “Would you like to go to Sarasaland with me?”

“Sure,” Charlie said brightly. “Why not?”

“Great,” said Chad. “Let me call the airline and secure our tickets.”

One quick phone call later, Chad and Charlie were booked for a late-night flight from the Smash World to Sarasaland. Jeff would pick them up about two hours prior to their plane’s departure and drive them to the airport, giving them plenty of time to check their baggage.

“Frankly, Dracula’s Castle would’ve made a better—and more interesting—venue,” said Charlie.

The two of them laughed.

“I’d love to check out Dracula’s Castle one day,” said Chad.

“Our next matches are coming up,” said Charlie. “See you later tonight.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

They parted after exchanging friendly smiles.

**1.1.1**

As the sun began to set in the sky, Koopa’s airship came to a stop near the Smash Mansion’s entrance. Her ramp descended, and two green-shelled Koopa Troopas helped their King disembark. Koopa was still aching from his latest clash with the Mario Bros, but at least the bruises were beginning to fade. He hoped that he could slip into his room, rest up and deal with MH tomorrow.

Koopa limped inside the Smash Mansion, exchanging friendly nods with Dorf and Wario as he headed toward his room.

“There you are.”

Koopa paused.

Eden stood in front of him, flanked by three other Miis.

“Hey, Eden,” said Koopa.

“Welcome back,” Eden said simply. “You must be exhausted after that long trip.”

“I am,” Koopa replied.

“Very well,” said Eden. “MH has agreed to let you relax—for now. But don’t think you’ve aborted talking about your little excursion. The two of you are still gonna discuss it.”

“Understood,” said Koopa.

Eden watched as the Koopa Troopas helped the hulking reptile the rest of the way to his room.

**1.1.1**

And late that night, CH was finishing up some work in his office when the two Steves burst in, wild-eyed.

“What’s the matter?” asked CH.

“We’ve searched the Smash Mansion top to bottom,” panted Steve, “but we still can’t find him.”

“Who?”

“Chad,” said Stevie. “He’s—gone!”

CH spat out a curse and pounded on his desk. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked when he recovered. “Find out where he went!”

“Oh, we will,” Steve ominously promised. “We’ll uncover the little worm, even if we have to tear the Nintendo multiverse apart!”


	16. T Plus 15 Days

Mario awoke fatigued and feeling weighed down, having slept fitfully throughout the night. He flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling, tears sliding silently down his face. MH’s latest tirade rang in his head, and with it brought the recollection of what he’d said to Luigi that night. The man in red knew that it was also one of the reasons why Luigi had retreated to Evershade Valley—he needed time away from his brother to process not only what he’d said but also the fact that he’d said it. Luigi didn’t talk about it, but Mario knew he still remembered it. The wound was still fresh.

Outside, the other Smashers filed into the cafeteria for breakfast, but Mario wasn’t hungry. All he wanted was to go back to sleep and wake up when all of this was over, when his suspension was lifted and he could go back to fighting on the battlefield. But there were things to do, and little time to do them. Breathing deeply, Mario wiped his tears and dragged himself out of bed.

He washed his face and then showered, scrubbing and shampooing the recollections away. By the time he emerged from the shower, he’d gained some of his appetite. After drying off and pulling on fresh clothes, Mario joined his fellow Smashers in the cafeteria.

“He looks pretty upset,” Amy reported to Rory when she saw Mario sit at one of the tables.

“Did you hear what happened between him and MH yesterday?” asked Rory.

“I know that he was called to his office.”

“The two Steves gave a _Smash News_ reporter an earful,” explained Rory. “According to them, Mario’s beatdown on them was premeditated.”

“_What_?”

“Yeah. MH wasn’t happy, and he and Mario got into it.”

“Yikes,” murmured Amy. “I don’t believe he could…”

“Maybe they’re lying, and maybe they’re not,” said Rory, “but until we know for sure, Mario’s reputation could be in jeopardy.”

“My God—what if the news spread already—to the MK?” asked Amy. “Mario’s barely hanging on as it is.”

“Which is why you really need to keep your eyes and ears peeled for his actions,” said Rory. “We don’t want him to do something stupid—something he’ll regret in the future.”

“Is it that—or are you still raw over him beating up MH’s car?”

Rory was silent.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” said Amy. “Okay—I’ll continue watching him, and if something arouses my suspicion, then you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

Amy sighed as she watched Mario pick at his food. She felt sorry for the poor guy. He had to witness all of this backlash against his baby brother, and he was too late to save him from a brutal beatdown. Then, when trying to defend his brother’s honor, he’d been the one punished. And finally, four guys had attacked him out of the blue, cutting him down with words as well as blows. If Luigi hadn’t shown up when he did—Amy didn’t allow herself to complete that thought.

She was pulled out of her reverie by the sound of everyone’s cell phones going off in tandem. Including hers.

Frowning, Amy pulled out her cell phone—and then her eyes widened.

The two Steves’ story was now online.

**1.1.1**

As he leveled forkfuls of food into his mouth, Mario had the unsettling feeling that he was being watched.

He set his fork onto his plate, wiped his mouth and glanced up.

Almost every Smasher had their eyes on him.

“What?” he asked.

Shock, disbelief and a slew of other emotions Mario didn’t want to think about were on the faces of his fellow Smashers as they continued to stare intently at him. They were almost staring _through_ him.

“Uh—is there something on my face?” Mario tried again.

No answer. Only silence.

Then, Pit broke the silence.

“Is—is it true?” he asked in a shaking voice.

“What are you talking about?” asked Mario.

His phone buzzed. Mario yanked it out, and when he saw the screen, he wanted to faint. Steve and Stevie’s lies were now on the Internet for the world to see!

“Please, Mario—please, tell us this isn’t true,” said Pit.

“It’s not!” Mario said hotly. “I was taking a walk to clear my head when I found them on a park bench, gloating about how they hurt Luigi! Can’t you see that they’re playing the victim to get attention?”

Koopa smirked. “Doesn’t look like they’re faking it to me,” he said.

Mario shot him a piercing look.

“I was just kidding!” guffawed Koopa. “Of course I believe you. Arranging something like that is _my_ thing, after all.”

More silence.

“I believe you,” Peach spoke up.

“_I_ believe you,” said Link.

“So do I,” said Sonic.

“And me,” said Pit.

“And me,” added Dark Pit.

“Me, too,” said Marth.

“Yeah, the tabloids are crap, anyway,” Rosalina chimed in.

Mario smiled, relieved.

“But you need to get to the MK to clear your name, and fast,” cautioned Samus. “There are some, believe it or not, who want to buy into this.”

Murmurs.

Peach rose. “I’ll go with you,” she said.

“Really?” asked Mario.

“These two a—holes are trying to besmirch the good name of my kingdom’s protector,” said Peach. “The Toads need their ruler now more than ever.”

“Thanks, Peachy,” Mario said softly.

“Wait!” cried Ness.

Everyone turned.

“I sneaked a peek at the schedule,” said Ness. “The two Steves are scheduled for a free-for-all with Peach, Link and Zelda. Before you go, don’t you wanna kick their [bleeps] first?”

“Yeah,” Peach said softly, her face flushing. “I really think I do. Maybe next time they’ll think before slandering one of my heroes!”

Chattering.

“Then, we’ll head to the MK afterward,” said Mario, “and we’ll smooth things over.”

Peach nodded.

Mario then turned to his fellow Smashers. “Thank you all,” he said, his heart swelling. “Thank you for still believing in me.”

“Of course,” said Link.

Mario slumped in his seat and let out a big breath.

Seated in the back of the cafeteria, the two Steves fumed. This wasn’t shaping to be a good day for them. Their plan to turn the Smashers against Mario had backfired, and they still had no idea where Chad had gone! Ah, well. At least they still had _one_ trick up their sleeves…

**1.1.1**

Vanessa and his family stood on the sidewalk, waiting for their tour bus. A few feet away from them was a newspaper stand. As more tourists arrived to join the family of four, they began buying newspapers, looking for a way to pass the time. It didn’t take long for them to become absorbed in the cover story.

“No—way,” said one of the tourists. Turning to Vanessa and Theo, he added, “You’ve _got_ to check this out.”

Their interest piqued, the two parents bought a copy. And smack dab on the front page was the two Steves’ falsified account of their run-in with Mario! Of course, nobody there knew it was falsified yet…

“Mario ‘Jumpman’ Mario used to make me feel safe,” said another tourist. “Now, I’m afraid to go out at night.”

A third tourist sighed. “My kids thought the world of this guy,” he said glumly.

“I have a seven-year-old daughter who loves Super Mario!” balked a fourth, outraged. “Who is she supposed to look up to now?”

“_This_ is the man who’s charged with protecting Princess Peach and her kingdom?” asked a fifth.

“Whoa, whoa! Time out!” cried Vanessa. “You don’t actually believe this, do you?”

Silence.

“You know how tabloids are,” added Theo. “They exaggerate even the smallest things just to ruffle some feathers and generate more sales. To them, it doesn’t matter how badly they hurt the celebrity! All they want is more and more dough!”

“Besides, those two aren’t necessarily the victims here,” said Vanessa. “The day before Mario ‘attacked’ them—they cornered Luigi in the Training Room. He wound up in the infirmary because of what they did.”

More silence.

“I—read about that,” said yet another tourist.

“And I can see why Mario went after them,” added the first tourist. “However, Mario should’ve found a better way to handle it.”

Murmurs of agreement.

“We’re not excusing what he did,” said Vanessa.

“All we’re doing is clearing away the web of lies,” added Theo.

“So—those two are trying to play the victim so they can besmirch Mario’s name,” said the second tourist. “Revenge, maybe?”

“Maybe,” said the fourth tourist.

“Mario defending Luigi is admirable—it’s always been,” said the fifth tourist. “However, he still attacked those two unprovoked.”

“Well, someone told me that he was going for a walk when he overheard those two gloating about hurting Luigi,” said the first tourist.

Chattering.

“Mario didn’t necessarily do the right thing, but he’s still a good man,” said the third tourist.

“Yeah,” said Vanessa. “He is.”

“However, we’re still gonna need some time to process that he did what he did,” said the second tourist. “I don’t want our children to think that it’s okay to solve their problems with violence.”

“He and Koopa settle things with violence all of the time,” argued Theo.

“Sometimes,” said the fourth tourist, “but that’s different. Koopa provoked him. Those two guys didn’t.”

“Technically, they kinda did,” said Vanessa. “They showed no remorse over putting Luigi in the hospital. But like I said, I’m not excusing what I did.”

“It sounds like you are to me,” said the second tourist.

Further discourse on the matter was halted when they saw their tour bus pull up. Silently, they all agreed to mull over the subject at a later time. They formed a single-file line, presented their tickets and then boarded the vehicle to begin another fun day of sightseeing.

**1.1.1**

In Evershade Valley, Falco had made himself comfortable in the Gloomy Manor’s library. He was seated cross-legged on the floor, reading a book about aviation. As Star Fox’s ace pilot, he could never learn too much about the power of flight. Perhaps he’d come across some pilot ghosts in these parts.

So far, things were relatively civil with Luigi. They’d spent all of yesterday in the Gloomy Manor’s lab, helping Professor Gadd tinker with this and that. Then, they’d made some small talk in the Bunker as Gadd did some maintenance on the Poltergust 5000. The avian had spent the night in one of the Gloomy Manor’s guestrooms, lulling himself to sleep by watching the ghosts play outside. And Luigi had promised that they’d explore the rest of the valley together. Falco was definitely looking forward to that.

The sound of a piano pulled Falco out of his thoughts, and he frowned lightly as the grand piano in the center of the room seemingly began to play by itself.

“Never seen that before,” said Falco as he set down the book, stood up and cautiously approached the piano.

An orange, big-brained ghost materialized, their fingers gliding expertly over the piano keys. Then, they turned and looked quizzically at Falco.

“Uh—hi, there,” said Falco.

The big-brained ghost chattered something in response before focusing back on the grand piano. “Mimimimimimimi…” they muttered.

Falco stared. “Weird and weirder,” he mused.

“That’s a Poltergeist.”

Falco spun around at the sound of Luigi’s voice.

“Hey, Luigi,” he said.

“Hey, Falco. Don’t worry—they’re harmless.” The Poltergeist acknowledged Luigi, who waved at him. “Well—for the time being, they are. But when they have to fight, they sure can pack a punch. He was the first major ghost I had to fight when…” He trailed off, and Falco knew what he was referring to.

“Good to know,” said Falco. “Their appearance is a bit unsettling, though.”

“I know, right?”

The Poltergeist raised an eyebrow, but otherwise continued playing the piano.

“But once you get to know them,” said Luigi, “you’ll realize that they’re not that bad.”

As he finished that sentence, Polterpup bounded into the library, racing excitedly around Luigi and Falco.

“I think someone wants to go for a walk,” laughed Falco.

Luigi said nothing, squatting down and gently running his fingers through Polterpup’s “fur”. The paranormal puppy calmed down at once, nuzzling his cheek against the plumber’s. Luigi murmured affectionate words to Polterpup, who flopped onto his back so that he could receive some belly rubs.

“Okay, puppy,” cooed Luigi. “We’ll go for a walk later, okay?”

Polterpup woofed in agreement before bumping his nose with Luigi’s.

Luigi straightened, and then Polterpup turned his attention to Falco.

“My, I think you’ve grown a bit,” said the avian, holding out his wing.

Polterpup sniffed it, made a little face and then rejoined Luigi.

Falco rolled his eyes. “You, too?”

The Poltergeist stopped playing, scooting over on the bench to make room for Luigi. The man in green settled down next to him, and the big-brained ghost gave him a nod. Together, the duo stretched their fingers over the keys and began to play as Falco looked on.

It was quite odd, seeing Luigi so chummy around a ghost. Usually, ghosts would send him running for cover. But Falco knew that Luigi had changed over the years. He’d learned that he should be the one controlling his fear, instead of vice versa. Having to save your brother from them—twice—tended to have that side effect.

But Falco also knew that it wasn’t just any other ghost that gave Luigi chill bumps nowadays—it was the Boos. Boos were cute on the outside but sadistic and deadly on the inside. And there was one Boo in particular who was burned into Luigi’s memory—

Luigi had lived a moderately rough life, and through it all, he persevered. Falco and the other conspirators behind Project Nerf were so fixated on the number of times the man in green had bested them in a Smash battle that they nearly forgot that. It was what had driven them to befriend Luigi in the first place. And before Luigi had gotten suspended for fighting outside of a scheduled match, he didn’t let the nerf keep him down for long.

By the way, how exactly did Luigi wind up in a fight outside of the tournament? Why, defending his big bro, of course!

“Hey, Falco!” said Luigi, bringing the avian back to the present.

“Yeah?”

Luigi smiled. “Wanna come join us?”

“Er—okay!”

Falco walked over and sat on the Poltergeist’s other side. “Just so you know—I kinda suck at playing the piano,” he said. “It’s hard to tickle the ivories with wings, y’know.”

“We won’t judge you,” Luigi said reassuringly. “Just do the best you can.”

The Poltergeist flexed their fingers before beginning to play an upbeat tune which Falco swore he heard before. A few bars in, Luigi joined in, his face alight as his gloved fingers joined the ghost’s in dancing along the keys. Falco watched as the two played off of each other, and then they turned to look at him, giving him a nod.

It was his cue to join in.

Falco wasn’t _that_ bad when it came to playing the piano, and he could even play a few songs by ear. But since he had wings, tickling the ivories could feel a little awkward to him. Presently, he could easily match his companions’ melody, but he initially had some trouble keeping up with the frenetic pace. However, Falco stopped thinking about it, allowing his body to relax as he started enjoying himself. Wasn’t this why he’d come here? To reconnect with his Brooklyn buddy in the hopes they could put that dreadful exchange behind them?

“There you go!” Luigi encouraged. “You’re doing it!”

Falco grinned like a fool as the three of them kept playing.

The avian’s eyes met Luigi’s at one point, the latter’s sparkling. It had been over a month since Falco last saw Luigi look at him like that. They were far away from the environment that had caused their estrangement, and the distance from the tournament seemed to be working. Falco felt as if the two of them were rediscovering each other by doing mundane activities together, like playing the piano. Come to think of it, there were so many activities in the valley that could help them repair their friendship.

Once they’d decompressed, and Falco confessed everything at the meeting five days from now, they could hopefully return to the Smash Mansion with less bad blood between them.

**1.1.1**

“It’s not like I’m saying that what those two did was right,” MH was saying. “I hate the fact that they attacked him as much as you. However, the way you chose to handle it was wrong.”

Mario sat across from MH in the latter’s office, listening, not trusting himself to speak.

“The way you and Luigi look out for each other is commendable. I can’t lie about that. But what message am I sending if I sit around and let you rough up your fellow Smashers just because they roughed up Luigi?”

“I’d say that’s an eye for an eye,” Mario said quietly, breaking his silence.

“It feels like that,” MH conceded, “and it feels good to make your brother’s bullies suffer the way they made him suffer. But revenge won’t undo what’s been done to Luigi, and it’s a silly thing to fight for. When…” He cleared his throat. “…when Luigi found out about what you did, and I’m sure he _did_ find out, he likely didn’t respond favorably to your actions, did he?”

Mario pressed his lips together, remembering the altercation and the words he’d said. “No,” he replied. “He didn’t. He was very upset, and we got into it. I was too blind and too raw to see his point, and I…” His voice broke. “I said some brutal things to him. Even after we talked it out the next day, I don’t think he’s completely forgotten—or forgiven.”

“While things indeed got out of hand yesterday, there’s one thing I won’t take back—the fact that I can’t give you preferential treatment because you’re Nintendo’s mascot. If you break the rules, then you’ll be punished, even if you did it for the right reasons.”

“I know,” said Mario. Then, he raised his head. “Why were you so quick to believe the two Steves’ pack of lies?”

“Mario…”

“You took one look at that story and quickly decided that I was the bad guy and that they were the victims. Did you need another excuse to rip me a new one?”

“No, Mario. No. I didn’t—I didn’t think.”

“That’s right. You don’t think. You _never_ think.”

MH winced as Mario tossed his own words back at him.

The portly plumber took a few deep breaths, calming down. He didn’t come here to fight with Master Hand.

“That stuff you puked up—did that had something to do with it?”

“Maybe,” said MH. “I’m not making excuses, though. I shouldn’t have flown off the handle.”

“Me, neither. If I hadn’t gone after them in the first place, then maybe they wouldn’t have tried to discredit me. And—I’m afraid that they’ll go after Luigi again when he returns from his—sabbatical.”

“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” said MH.

“Thanks, MH,” said Mario. “Have you thought of a way to get Crazy Hand to confess his role in all of this?”

“Confronting him directly is too risky,” said MH. “We’ll have to use deceit to lure him into a trap. I know everyone who participated in this—Project Nerf—thanks to the info Zelda gave me. Do you think my brother trusts them?”

“He trusts Steve and Stevie the most,” Mario told him. “I’ve seen them hanging around together a lot lately. Maybe we can get to CH through them—or through Sakurai. Have you called him yet?”

“I’ve tried to contact him numerous times, but he hasn’t responded to my calls,” said MH. “I’m just trying to prepare for the—get-together—that Chad arranged. Shortly after you returned from your routine rescue mission, four brothers paid me a visit.”

“Really?” Mario tilted his head.

“They confessed to being the masterminds behind all of this. Their names are Vincent, Manny, Shane and Stuart.”

“Stuart?” repeated Mario. “Stuart Bennigan? The Smasher who you kicked out after he relentlessly antagonized Luigi?”

MH nodded. “I saw genuine remorse in their words and actions. And they’re willing to tell us everything—provided that you don’t attack them, of course.”

Mario thought it over. “I can’t promise you anything,” he finally said, “but if they’re willing to tell the truth, then I’m willing to listen.”

MH sighed. “Good enough,” he said. “If you remain in control for the rest of the week, then I’ll lift your suspension a little early, but you have to work with me here, okay?”

“Okay,” said Mario.

“Great,” MH grinned. “You are dismissed.”

Mario allowed himself a small smile as he stood and walked out of the office. Peach’s free-for-all with Zelda, Link and the two Steves was coming up, and he didn’t want to miss it.

**1.1.1**

The plane touched down rather smoothly on the tarmac of Sarasaland Airport before it taxied to the airport terminal. Once it was safe to do so, the passengers unbuckled their seatbelts, grabbed their luggage and disembarked before heading over to the baggage claim area to claim any checked luggage.

With their luggage in hand, Chad and Charlie walked out of the terminal and called a Lyft, which took them to the Hyatt Place hotel in uptown Sarasaland. A valet greeted them at the entrance and helped them carry their luggage to the front desk.

“You’re in luck,” said the receptionist. “I have a room with two queen beds available. There are two bathrooms, and you’ll have a view of Princess Daisy’s castle.”

“We’ll take it,” Chad and Charlie said in unison.

The two paid for the room in cash, and a bellhop took their luggage to their room.

It was very spacious, with two soft queen beds, a view of the royal castle, numerous outlets and charging ports, a flat-screen TV, two bathrooms with a Jacuzzi each and room service.

“Not bad,” said Charlie.

Chad nodded. “Hyatt hotels are always the best,” he mused.

“I’ll get the meeting with Daisy set up, shall I?” Charlie told him. “I’m sure she’ll be happy to meet with you.”

“Thanks,” smiled Chad.

After the two of them unpacked their stuff, Charlie fished out her cell phone and called the Princess of Sarasaland. Chad listened as she chatted genially with the royal for a few moments before explaining the situation to her.

“Perfect,” she said brightly. “See you then.”

Hanging up, she turned to Chad. “She’s agreed to meet with us tomorrow,” she reported.

“Once we’ve got the venue locked in, we’ll have to tell the others without Crazy Hand or the two Steves finding out,” said Chad. “We need to be careful—Sarasaland could be full of their spies.”

“That’s why we have Jeff on speed-dial,” said Charlie. “He’ll cover our tracks. And we’re Smashers, remember? We can handle ourselves.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt over something I did,” sighed Chad.

“Hey,” said Charlie. “You’re making a lot of efforts to rectify this. And while I’m upset that you’d do that to Luigi—I want to help you in any way I can.”

Chad blushed. “Thanks, Charlie. You’re a true friend.”

“You’re welcome,” said Charlie. “In the meantime, how about we rest awhile?”

“Great minds think alike!” grinned Chad.

The two of them turned on the TV and picked a bed for each of them to stretch out on. Then, they flipped through the channels until they got to the ones broadcasting Smash matches. On one of those channels, a free-for-all involving Peach, Zelda, Link, Steve and Stevie was about to begin. Charlie and Chad exchanged a look. After all of the stunts the two Steves had pulled lately, such a match would be cathartic to watch…

**1.1.1**

“All of your vitals look fine,” said Dr. Mario as he finished his check-up on Master Hand. “You’re saying you’re not having any stomach pain or nausea—you’re just throwing up this black substance?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think it’s stress?”

MH shook his head. “I’ve been stressed out numerous times before,” he said, “and this hasn’t happened.”

“This—this is an interesting case,” said Dr. Mario. “For the time being, I recommend drinking plenty of water and avoiding stressors.”

“Thanks, Doc,” said MH.

“My next match is fast approaching,” said Dr. Mario. “I’ve got to get some practice.”

MH wished Dr. Mario good luck before floating back to his office.

“Avoid stressors,” said MH. “That’s gonna be difficult, seeing what I’ve found out lately…”

He poured himself a glass of water and left Mr. Sakurai another voicemail before settling back in his chair and dozing off.

Commotion roused him not long after.

The giant glove bolted out of the office, nearly crashing into Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory. Frantic expressions were on their faces, and they were sweaty and ashen.

“Master Hand, thank goodness!” shouted Rory. “Something—something has happened…”

“Was there an accident?” asked MH.

“It’s far worse!” exclaimed Jimmy. “The match with the two Steves, Link, Zelda and Peach—I—I can’t…”

Timmy rested a hand on Jimmy’s shoulder as he took charge. “Peach, Link and Zelda have been rushed to the infirmary,” he said. “The two Steves _really_ did a number on them. It could hardly be called a match anymore.”

“If something was going wrong, then did anyone try to stop it?” asked MH.

Remy nodded. “Mario, Sheik, Toon Link—even Dorf and Koopa—were the quickest on the uptake and started shouting for the match to be stopped. They had to watch as Steve and Stevie completely overpowered the others, and that was when they figured out that something wasn’t right. It took a lot of Mii-power to pull the two Steves off of them.”

“Where are those two?” MH wanted to know.

“Right here.” Eden and Lauren arrived on the scene, holding the two Steves formally by the arm as they struggled.

“We caught them trying to slip out amidst the chaos,” Lauren explained.

MH glared severely at the two Steves. “Escort them to their rooms for now,” he said. “I want them to think very hard about what they’ve done.”

“Gladly,” said Eden. She and Lauren then led the two Steves away.

“The other three—are they at least conscious?”

“Yes,” said Rory. “They should be back on their feet tomorrow. But Mario—he’s our biggest worry. He saw what the two Steves did to her, and given what they did to Luigi—I’d better call Amy!” He stepped aside to do just that.

“J—s. You don’t need to say anymore,” said MH. “I need to get over there.”

The Hand of Creation rushed off to the infirmary on the double.

By the time MH arrived, the waiting room was crowded with Smashers. MH zeroed in on Mario, looking distraught as Yoshi and Rosalina tried in vain to comfort him. Dorf, Wario and the Koopalings were doing the same with Koopa, who looked equally distraught. He really _did_ love Peach, didn’t he?

Dr. Mario stepped outside to calm everyone.

“They’re going to be okay,” he said.

The Smashers sighed in relief.

“Can we see them?” asked Mario.

“Right now, I’m limiting it to close friends and relatives,” replied Dr. Mario.

Koopa and Dorf’s shoulders sagged, but they raised no objection. Toon Link, Sheik, Yoshi, Rosalina and Mario got up and filed inside.

“Please,” said MH. “I need to speak with them.”

Dr. Mario thought it over before letting MH pass. “Try not to upset them,” he said.

Peach, Zelda and Link lay in their hospital beds, a simple IV drip attached to their arms. However, they looked in relatively good spirits. Toon Link and Sheik stepped over to speak quietly with the two Triforce bearers, while everyone else approached Peach’s bedside.

“Hey,” she greeted.

Mario smoothed Peach’s hair out of her face as he knelt down. “Oh, Peachy…”

“I’m okay,” she said. “I could take it.”

But her words did nothing to comfort Mario. Seeing the woman he loved battered and hooked up to an IV was like seeing Luigi in that condition all over again. And the same people had put her there, no less! He should’ve been in that free-for-all—maybe he could’ve stopped it before it flared out of control.

“Why would they do this?” asked MH. “Why would they risk another suspension? Do you think it had something to do with…?”

“I don’t wanna say what I think,” said Mario, clasping Peach’s hand in his.

“There could be another reason,” Peach spoke up.

MH frowned.

“When I saw those four guys headed toward Mario’s room, I gave him a call and warned him,” Peach explained. “If it hadn’t been for me…” She trailed off.

“What does that have to do with the two Steves?” asked Mario. “They’re not friends—are they?”

“You think that Crazy Hand was behind that attack, right?” asked Peach.

“Right,” said MH.

“Then—the two Steves were probably acting on his orders,” said Peach. “The revenge for what Mario did was just a big fat bonus to them. And Link and Zelda—they eavesdropped on Koopa and Dorf in the café, when they were talking about the plot to get Luigi nerfed.”

Mario’s eyes flashed. “Either Koopa found out and told Crazy Hand, or…”

“No, Mario. I don’t think Koopa’s behind this,” said Peach. “He’d never wish any harm upon me—he just wants me as his queen. You should’ve seen him—he looked ready to rip those two apart with his own claws.”

“Do you think he’d want word of his involvement to spread?” asked Mario.

“Koopa looked extremely upset about the whole thing,” said MH. “I’d say that he’s grown remorseful over his actions.”

“_Someone_ wants to send me a message, though,” Mario said darkly. “First, they try to trample my reputation, and now this. What if they track Luigi down and…?”

“I won’t let that happen,” promised MH. “I will summon Steve and Stevie to my office to discuss suspension and possible expulsion from the tournament.”

“I hope you _do_ expel them,” said Mario.

“Master Hand—as soon as I’m discharged, I’d like to go to the MK,” said Peach, “and I’m taking Mario along. The Toads must’ve read that newspaper by now, and we need to set the record straight.”

MH nodded. “You may go,” he said.

Suddenly, Lauren and Eden limped into the infirmary, hand-in-hand, hair disheveled and sweaty.

“Master Hand,” said Eden. “The two Steves have escaped.”

“What?” cried Mario.

“We stood guard outside their rooms,” said Lauren. “As you can see, we fought our hardest, but…”

“We’d better get you two patched up right away,” said MH.

“You’ve got to send some people after them!” cried Lauren. “They—they overpowered us because—they had some help.”

“Help?” asked MH. “From whom?”

“Crazy Hand,” the two women said in unison.

There was nasty silence.

“They’re definitely hiding something,” Mario said after a while.

“Don’t worry,” said Master Hand. “We’re gonna find them, and I’m gonna get to the bottom of this.”

Peach set her lips. “See that it’s done,” she said briskly, “or you’ll experience a backlash the likes of which you’ve never experienced before.”

**1.1.1**

“It’s done,” said Stevie as he sat with Steve and Crazy Hand in the Best Western hotel room where the Hand of Destruction had hastened them. “I doubt that anyone will want to stick their noses in our business after today.”

“Well done, both of you,” CH said warmly. “I couldn’t have carried out this plan better myself. However, our biggest priority is locating Chad.”

“He probably ran off to publish a tell-all about us,” hissed Steve.

“If he tells anyone, then it’ll eradicate the leverage I have over him,” said CH. “We need to find him before he spills the beans.”

“He’s smart,” said Stevie. “He won’t leave a bread crumb trail.”

“Then,” smiled CH, “we lull him into a false sense of security. Make him think that the danger has passed, so that he’ll drop his guard and make a few crucial mistakes. And then—we pounce.”

“Wow,” breathed Stevie. “That’s f—in’ brilliant.”

“They don’t call me the Hand of Destruction for nothing, Stevie,” giggled CH.

“You know that we’ll have to be wary of the MK and Hyrule now,” said Steve, “and Stevie and I know that Mario can pack a punch.”

“Mario and Link can’t do anything,” CH said confidently. “If Mario flips his lid again, then he’ll get himself in more trouble. And Link will face suspension as well if he tries anything.”

“The Toads weren’t as gullible as we thought,” sighed Stevie. “We were unable to turn them against Mario. But at least we got under their skin, with their Princess in the hospital and all.”

“You said it,” laughed Steve.

“And when Luigi gets back from his vacation,” giggled Stevie, “then we’ll have more fun, won’t we?”

CH smirked. “Yes, we will.”

**1.1.1**

Vincent was relaxing in his new castle in the Dark Lands when his cell phone chimed.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hello, Vincent,” said the voice on the other end.

Vince started. “Master Hand?”

“The one and only.”

“Hey, there,” Vince said genially. “What’s the latest?”

“Well, for starters, two of your fellow conspirators put three of my Smashers in the hospital,” said MH. “Of those three, two of them provided information about your—endeavor.”

Vince snapped his fingers. “That sounds like Steve and Stevie!” he cried. “MH—my brothers and I have practically disowned those two. They’ve taken it way too far!”

“And not only that—my dear brother, Crazy Hand, helped them escape, and there’s also reason to believe that he arranged the whole thing,” MH went on. “Now, here’s my proposal. Since you, Manny and Shane are no doubt the only ones they trust at the moment, I’d like you to get in touch with them and persuade them to turn themselves in.”

“How are we gonna do that?” asked Vince.

“I strongly suggest that you find a way,” MH said coolly. “In exchange for this, and for your attendance at Chad’s meeting, the only punishment you’ll receive for your actions is a fine.”

Vince stroked his chin. “What about Stuart?” he asked. “He’s a different man now. If you can see your way to giving him a second chance in Smash—then we’ll talk.”

“That’s something I’ll have to take up with my other Smashers,” said MH, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay,” said Vince. “We have a deal.”

“Very well,” said MH. “I’ll have my cell phone on at all times. Call me once you get through to them.”

“Will do. Bye.”

Vince hung up and sighed. CH and the two Steves were now loose cannons, and if he and his brothers wanted to atone for their actions, then they needed to stop whatever those three were planning before significant damage was done. With that thought, the eldest Bennigan Brother began sending texts to Shane, Manny and Stu. They’d powwow at his castle in order to decide on the best course of action.

**1.1.1**

Word of this latest turn of events hadn’t yet reached Luigi and Falco. Currently, the two of them were in the Gloomy Manor’s cellar, which had been significantly tidied in the two years since the Dark Moon fiasco. The elevator leading to it was repaired and up to code, the room proper was cleared of spiderwebs and sprayed with air freshener, and it was now hosting some volleyball games, with Luigi and the (formerly) Grouchy Possessor as the team captains. These games had grown more heated throughout the day while still remaining civil, and everyone was impressed with Falco’s skill at the sport. Halfway through the second game, Luigi had removed his shirt, causing all of the ghosts to start admiring him. Eventually, some gentle rebuking from the Possessor had helped the opposing team re-focus, and the ghosts on Luigi’s team were still able to play some good ball despite the, er, distraction.

Luigi let out an emphatic grunt as he gave the ball an impressive spike, netting his team yet another win. The ghosts cheered and hoisted their team captain into the air, while Falco performed the customary Gatorade-drenching.

“Awesome job, Luigi!” laughed Falco.

“You weren’t that bad yourself,” Luigi told him.

“Fox, Krystal, Kat, Slippy, Peppy and I have discovered a lot of pastimes when we’re not saving the galaxies,” said Falco. “We’ve even played a few friendly games with Star Wolf.”

“Star Wolf? I thought you guys hated each other.”

“We don’t _hate_ them, and they don’t hate us,” Falco explained. “We just have—conflicts in ideology.”

“Makes sense,” said Luigi.

The Possessor and their team floated over to shake hands, and then they all took the elevator back up to the second-floor lobby, where Gadd waited for them with some pizza and sodas.

“I’m telling you—that was the best fun I’d had in a long while,” said Falco after he and Luigi situated themselves with a slice of pizza and a can of soda.

“Same here,” said Luigi.

“Now I’m _really_ starting to envy you,” Falco went on. “You’re living in a kingdom where such sporting events are commonplace, along with the parties and kart races. I’d _love_ to live in the MK, hands down.”

“Yeah—it’s a good place to live,” conceded Luigi. “Relatively stable economy, exceptional standard of living, high life expectancy—but there’s a flip side to that coin. A flip side that involves a lovesick turtle invading at least once or twice a week.”

“But that same turtle often attends those sporting events,” said Falco. “It’s like—it’s like you’re good friends one day and sworn enemies the next. What’s up with that?”

“It’s like Star Fox and Star Wolf, I guess,” said Luigi. “Clashing ideologies.”

“But knowing what Koopa does, how can you tolerate being in the same room with him?”

“Because Peach, Mario and I tend to be compassionate and forgiving—most of the time,” Luigi explained.

“Uh-huh,” said Falco, taking a bite out of his pizza.

“These ghosts, however—they’re surprisingly good hosts,” the avian continued after swallowing his food. “They know a good thing or two about throwing down.”

“They’re the friendliest ghosts I’ve met so far,” said Luigi, “and they really want to make up for what happened in 2013. That’s why I’ve decided to keep in touch with the Professor. The more I discovered about these ghosts, the more open-minded I could be regarding them. Fourteen or so years ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed of coming here to cool off!”

“My friends and I agree that your first solo adventure changed you for the better,” said Falco. “Look what you wouldn’t have accomplished if it hadn’t happened.”

Luigi nodded. “The first time I confronted ghosts head-on, I didn’t really think I’d make it,” he confessed. “Parts of my mind tried to make me turn around, run home and hide under my bed. But I kept saying ‘no’, kept visualizing Mario’s face, because if I abandoned him, then I’d have it on my conscience for the rest of my life. Even when battling _him_, I wouldn’t retreat, bow or give in. Because Mario was watching and cheering me on. I said to myself, over and over, ‘Do it for him’. And I did.”

Falco listened silently, eating his pizza and sipping his soda.

“Afterward, the Professor let me keep the Poltergust 3000. He told me that I needed it more than he did. I kept it cleaned and polished, and I took it to the Professor once a month for routine maintenance. But between 2001 and 2013, I tried to distance myself from that life. I had nightmares about the incident, and I still do. So, I hoped against hope that I’d never have to face a ghost again and let the 3000 model gather dust. But Fate had other plans and gave me the Poltergust 5000.

“Once the Dark Moon was restored and I saved my brother a second time, something changed. I came to realize that maybe, just maybe, ghost-hunting is a part of me. The Professor told me himself that I was the only ghost-wrangler he knew. And even now, I have to be ready. What if he’s endangered again? What if Mario’s endangered again? What if…?” He took a few deep breaths, calming down. “And deep inside me, I enjoyed the adventure. I was happy there was _something_ I was good at after all of these years of being accused of clumsiness and cowardice. I was happy and honored to be a hero in my own right—a hero who has flaws and embraces them, rather than trying to escape from them. My Poltergust may be a vacuum, but to me, it’s so much more. And I really can’t distance myself from one of the most pivotal moments of my life.”

“You’re right,” said Falco.

“I think that the Dark Moon episode affected me the most,” Luigi went on. “The night in the mansion made me push back against my phasmophobia, but my first visit to Evershade Valley was when I could really take a sledgehammer to it. I’m still skittish, but I’m not deathly afraid. And nowadays, that fear comes from _him_, rather than from ghosts in general. Have you ever wondered why I have a new Final Smash in the current tournament? My adventure in Evershade Valley, combined with my year, finally put those negative feelings to rest.”

“I’m really glad it did,” Falco told him. “That Negative Zone really freaked me out. And imagine it—you’re playing volleyball and socializing with the very beings which used to frighten you out of your wits!”

“And it feels good, too,” said Luigi.

They finished their pizza and helped themselves to some more slices.

“Despite the ghostly presence, Evershade Valley is a good place to relax and clear your head,” said Falco. “You made the right decision to come here during your suspension. You get to slow things down a little bit, there’s nobody trying to beat you up, the locals are friendly—it’s the total package. I hope to learn more about ghost wrangling as the week goes by. And when it’s time to head back to the Smash Mansion—we’ll be ready for what lies ahead.”

“I’m sure Professor Gadd would love to share his knowledge with you—and so would I.”

Falco blinked. “You—you’d really do that?” he asked.

Luigi stared deeply into the avian’s eyes. “I would,” he responded. “I’d love to mentor someone the way the Professor has mentored me.”

Falco was positively beaming. “I knew that dropping in here was a great idea,” he said.

There was a long, comforting beat between them.

“And then what?” Luigi suddenly asked.

“Hm?” asked Falco through a mouthful of pizza.

“After my suspension has been lifted and after the meeting Chad has planned, when we’re back in the Smash Mansion,” Luigi explained. “Then what?”

“We—uh—we move on,” said Falco.

“I’m following the Professor’s advice and using this time to reconnect,” said Luigi, “but what will our return to the Smash Mansion mean for us?”

“What do you mean?”

“I fear that it’s gonna take more than a week in Evershade Valley for me to move past what you said,” Luigi explained, “and when we get back, there will be more people taking cracks at me due to my nerf, and with them will be the reminder that your words helped kickstart it.”

Falco said nothing.

“We’ll make the most of our time together here, I’m sure. But when the calm has passed, and we’re in the heat of a Smash match—where will that leave us?”

The avian fumbled for a response. “I—I…” Then, he looked straight at Luigi. “I don’t know, L,” he said sadly. “I honestly don’t know.”

**1.1.1**

Later that evening, Falco and Luigi found themselves back in the lab, listening as Gadd told stories of his adventures prior to meeting the latter, sipping on hot chocolate. Falco was only half-listening, the question Luigi posed to him earlier still rattling around in his mind.

_And then what?_

By this time next week, Luigi would be back to fighting matches and discovering new combos. But as he’d said, it would be open season for him all over again. Would the two Steves repeat their attack? Would others attack him, as well? And what about Mario? The last time they’d spoken, the man in red was ready to put Falco’s actions behind them, but what he’d endured could prove to be a setback. And with it all would be the memories of that post-match exchange, when Falco chose to throw a salty fit rather than buckle down and practice. Would it undo all of the progress they’d hopefully make in Evershade Valley? Only time would tell.

Gadd finished his current story and yawned. “I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time for me to hit the hay,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess I’d better turn in, too,” said Luigi. “I’m gonna sleep over at the Haunted Towers tonight. The Hiders there are good company.”

“I’ll have a few Slammers walk you over there,” said Gadd.

As if on cue, a Slammer appeared and scooped Luigi onto their back before flying out of the lab.

“And I’ll sleep here in the Gloomy Manor,” said Falco.

Gadd smiled broadly. “Follow me,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.”

The two of them walked to Gadd’s Bunker, where the eccentric professor took the avian down to the lower level.

“Whoa…” breathed Falco when he saw what Gadd had done with the area.

It was his very own workshop! His Arwing was parked there, along with some tools and manuals, so he could tinker with it as he pleased. There was also a stack of paper, a basket of pens and pencils, a music player and some CDs, a desk, a laptop and a minifridge, along with a microwave and some snack items.

“I didn’t want you to feel homesick,” Gadd explained.

“Thank you, Professor,” said Falco. “This means a lot to me.”

“Of course, you’ll have some company,” said Gadd, indicating the Boo Canister.

Falco tossed his head. “I’m not afraid of any Boos,” he crowed.

“Just—don’t provoke them, okay?”

“Okay.”

Gadd smiled before leaving Falco to his own devices.

Falco allowed a wing to trail along his aircraft as he surveyed his temporary workshop. It felt just like a home away from home. He’d go here when he needed to think, when there was any nervous energy he needed to let out. And whenever Luigi needed space, this would be where the avian would retreat.

He crossed the room to the music player and was about to put in a CD when a slight twinge made him turn toward the Boo Canister.

One of the Boos was staring intently at him.

“Uh—hi,” said Falco, waving at the Boo.

The Boo waved back.

“Don’t mind me,” said Falco. “I’m just—looking around the place. We’re gonna be neighbors for a few days.”

In response, the Boo cackled their signature, high-pitched cackle.

Cautiously, Falco stepped toward the Boo Canister. “What have you been doing for the past two years? How have you passed the time?”

The Boo blushed and covered their eyes as Falco approached.

“Hey—it’s okay,” Falco told them. “I won’t hurt you.”

Having reached the Boo Canister, Falco curiously peered inside at the multitudes of Boos residing within, chortling and cackling with each other. The Boo in front of him slowly removed their appendages from their eyes before licking their tongue at the avian.

“Wow—you guys are just cute little bedsheet ghosts, aren’t you?” asked Falco. “You’re just—little white balls of cuteness with fangs and long tongues and beady eyes. You sort of remind me of Kirby.”

The Boo cackled again, just floating there and doing aerial rolls from time to time.

Gently, Falco placed his wing on the glass, and the Boo did the same thing with one of their appendages on the other side.

Falco laughed. “You are _so_ adorable,” he said, withdrawing his wing. “I hope you don’t mind if I hang with you guys for a while.”

The Boo just grinned at him.

“I guess—you won’t.”

Falco watched as several more Boos turned around to lick their tongues at him, studying him curiously.

“What, you’ve never seen an anthropomorphic bird before?” he asked with a chuckle.

And then a pair of large, glowing violet eyes met Falco’s as a large Boo face was thrust into his line of vision, accompanied by an ominous, throaty cackle.

In no time at all, Falco’s body was primed for action, his feet retreating him a few paces, his Blaster trained on who he knew was the King of all Boos.

And the Master of Illusions—the bane of Luigi’s existence—doubled over with a hearty laugh, his constituents cackling alongside him.

“Oh, man!” he cried. “What did I tell you? Gets them every time!” He exchanged high-fives with his Boo brethren before turning back to Falco.

“Don’t move,” Falco commanded in a low voice.

King Boo just giggled. “This canister is completely impregnable,” he said, “and an unexpected _accident_ would cast a slight pall on your visit.” He eyed the avian’s Blaster, and Falco slowly lowered it but didn’t holster it.

“That’s better,” said King Boo.

Falco’s eyes quickly examined the Boo Canister, searching for even the tiniest flaw, anything that the Boos could exploit, so he could report it to Gadd. Thankfully, he found nothing of the sort.

“Relax,” King Boo told him. “If I _wanted_ to break out of here, then I would’ve done so already.”

Falco frowned. “You—_like_ being here?”

“It has its moments,” grinned King Boo. “You’d think that two years cooped up in here would take a toll on my mind, but it hasn’t. Wanna know why?”

“Uh—why?”

“Because there’s a _special someone_ on the outside who’s keeping me going,” hissed King Boo.

Falco’s blood froze.

“And besides, we get free Internet if we behave,” King Boo shrugged, “but most of the time, I think of _him_. Just like I know he’s thinking of me.”

Falco shuddered.

“So,” said King Boo. “My old pal Luigi is having a rough go of it in these Smash tournaments lately.”

“He is. That’s why he retreated here.”

“And there are some who—disapproved of his combo ability. Disapproved of it enough to have it nerfed.”

“Yes.”

“And after the “t’s” were crossed and the “I’s” were dotted, they set upon him more viciously _because_ he didn’t have those combos anymore.”

“They did.”

“He was even—beaten up in the Training Room.”

“Wha—how do you know all of that?”

“We just know,” said King Boo as his brethren giggled. “We know everything—_especially _when it comes to Luigi.”

“That’s—that’s not creepy at all,” said Falco.

“We also know that Luigi was suspended after defending his beloved brother,” King Boo went on, leering at Falco. “It seems that the poor fellow isn’t catching a break.”

“No, he isn’t. A lot of people want to hurt him for reasons I don’t know or don’t understand.” Falco let out a huff. “Anyway, what do you care? I thought you hated his guts.”

“Tch—‘hate’ is such a strong word,” admonished King Boo. “He may be responsible for my imprisonment, but I actually rather enjoy him.”

“Do you?”

King Boo nodded. “He has such beautiful blue eyes—I can still see the way they dilated during our latest encounter.”

“You’re obsessed with him,” said Falco.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” King Boo retorted. “He may be a thorn in my side, but he’s a _good-looking_ thorn in my side. He has a nice body—a _very_ nice body. So lean and muscular…” The Master of Illusions stared dreamily into space, licking his lips.

“Oh, my God,” gasped Falco. “You’re a psychopath.”

King Boo had the gall to look offended. “I’m _not_ a psychopath,” he said. “I’m a high-functioning _sociopath_. There’s a very big difference.”

Falco blinked. “Whatever you say,” he said.

King Boo scrutinized the avian. “You used to be friends with him,” he said, “but you had a falling-out.”

Falco nodded. “I said some things that I shouldn’t have.”

“And you were also involved in this—Project Nerf.”

“I was.”

“By the time you came to your senses, it was too late.”

“Okay—no need to rub it in.”

King Boo tilted his body to the side. “You want to make things right with him,” he said.

“Yes. More than anything.”

King Boo smirked. “You miss his company,” he went on. “Even after everything that’s happened.”

“I—I do.”

“And he misses yours.”

“I can’t speak for him, but…”

“That wasn’t a question,” King Boo broke in. “I can feel it. We all can.”

Falco’s grip tightened on his Blaster. He could see now why King Boo was in Luigi’s darkest nightmares.

“Will you turn on him again, Falco Lombardi?” King Boo cryptically asked.

Falco narrowed his eyes. “How in the Hell did you know my name?” he growled.

King Boo’s violet eyes seared into the avian. “_Will you turn on him again_?”

Falco glowered at the Master of Illusions. “Never,” he replied.

“Good,” hissed King Boo, “because there’s only one soul allowed to make Luigi’s life a living Hell, and that’s me. Got it?”

“If you say so,” replied Falco.

Finally, he holstered his Blaster. “I have to go to bed now,” he said. “Good talk.”

He could feel those eyes burning into his back as he turned and left the room as swiftly as he could.


	17. T Plus 16 Days

Falco’s eyes blinked open, and he saw a Greenie smile down at him, chattering something in greeting.

“Morning,” the avian mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching before rolling out of the bed.

He stumbled toward the bathroom, only to find a Slammer seated on the toilet, reading a newspaper.

“Dude!” balked Falco. “Lock the door!”

The Slammer grumbled something as Falco closed the bathroom door.

“How do you guys even go, anyway?” Falco wanted to know.

Luckily, there was another vacant bathroom nearby, where Falco attended to his toilette. Minutes later, he was showered, attired in fresh clothes and ready to take on a new day.

His phone chimed, and he answered with a crisp “Yeah?”

“Hey, Falco,” greeted Luigi’s voice. “The Three Sisters are hosting breakfast at the Haunted Towers’ rooftop pool. Would you like to join us?”

“Sure. I’ll be right there.”

“Great. See you then.”

“Yeah. See ya.” Falco hung up and took a breath, replaying his talk with King Boo last night. He wanted to warn Luigi that his archrival was up to no good, but did he really need the stress at the moment?

He was brought out of his thoughts by the Slammer he’d encountered in the bathroom gently scooping him onto their back.

“Did you wash your hands?” asked Falco.

The Slammer rolled their eyes and nodded before flying the avian out of the Gloomy Manor and toward the Haunted Towers.

Luigi was waiting for Falco when he arrived at the rooftop pool, the Slammer alighting in front of the table. Falco slid off the Slammer’s back and thanked them for the ride before taking a seat next to the man in green.

A trio of ghosts soon arrived, setting down plates piled high with various breakfast foods. Then, they made themselves comfortable in the other seats around the table, making eyes at Luigi.

“You’re the Three Sisters?” asked Falco.

The three ghosts nodded.

“Yeah—the big ghost is Herlinda, the small ghost is Lucinda and the thin ghost is Belinda, though she also answers to Melinda,” Luigi explained. “I first met them in a haunted graveyard not far from here.”

“But they lounge around here now?”

“They do.”

Everyone seated at the table served themselves and began to eat.

“This is really good,” said Falco.

The Three Sisters chattered something in thanks.

“So Falco—I hope you slept well,” said Luigi.

“I did. Did you?”

“More or less. Listen, after we’re finished, I need to check on—_him_.”

Falco set down his forkful of food. “I’ll do it,” he said.

Luigi raised an eyebrow.

“You don’t need to deal with him. Not now,” said Falco.

“Mario told me not to, but—he doesn’t understand,” said Luigi. “I need to see him in that Vault, so I can know that he’s securely locked away and in no position to hurt anyone close to me.”

“He—really left a mark on you, didn’t he?”

Luigi nodded. “He did.” Clearing his throat, he changed the subject. “I hear that Professor Gadd turned the Bunker’s lower level into a workshop for you.”

“That’s true,” said Falco, “and it’s—right next to the Boo Canister. So I can keep an eye on _him_ for you.”

“Has he talked to you?” Luigi suddenly asked.

“Luigi…”

“Has. He. Talked. To. You?”

Falco sighed. “Yes,” he finally confessed. “He told me that he’s thinking about you, and that he knows what’s going on in Smash. He doesn’t like it one bit, surprisingly.”

“That’s because in his mind, only _he_ can torment me,” huffed Luigi.

“Yeah—he made _that_ pretty clear to me,” said Falco. “He also asked me if I’d turn on you again.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“I told him—no.”

“Do you really mean that?” asked Luigi, “or did you just say what he wanted to hear?”

“I really mean it,” said Falco. “I won’t lash out at you like that again.”

Luigi fixed him with his gaze before leveling another forkful of food into his mouth.

“I’ll try to remember that once we’re back in the Smash Mansion,” he muttered.

“Luigi…” sighed Falco.

The Three Sisters looked questioningly at them.

“It’s quite all right,” Luigi said in response to their gazes. “Falco and I have just run into a little hurdle in our friendship, but—we’re trying to stay positive.”

“About that,” said Falco. “I’ve thought about what you asked me last night, and the answer I can give at the moment is—we’ll just have to take it one match at a time.”

Luigi bit his lip. “You’re right,” he said.

Professor Gadd suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Luigi,” he said gravely, “may I talk to you for a minute?”

The man in green stood up and joined his mentor. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Grave news from the Smash World,” sighed Gadd. “It’s—it’s Mario. He…”

“What happened to him?!” Luigi wanted to know.

“I’ll tell you when you calm down,” said Gadd.

“Okay,” said Luigi. “What happened to my bro?”

“The two rascals who beat you up tried to play the victim card. They gave a falsified account of their run-in with Mario to a news reporter, and now the story is everywhere. The good news is that the Smashers and the MK aren’t buying it, but Mario still needs to smooth things over.”

Luigi said nothing.

“Worse yet—the two were in a free-for-all with Peach, Zelda and Link yesterday. And they…” Gadd faltered and swallowed. “By the time it was over, the latter three were hospitalized, and the two troublemakers managed to escape.”

Luigi’s face was set and hard. In a chillingly calm voice, he asked, “Could you excuse me for a moment?”

Gadd nodded and moved aside, and Luigi briskly walked out of the room.

**1.1.1**

“Of _course_ I know they’re listening!” Gadd heard Luigi exclaim into the phone. “I want them to hear! I want them to hear it all!”

Falco joined Gadd. “How bad?” he asked.

“Someone has it out for Mario,” said Gadd, “and Luigi’s not happy.”

“You know what they’re doing there?!” they heard Luigi snap. “Tell those geniuses what they have done!”

A brief pause.

“I don’t give a [bleep]!”

Falco, Gadd and some of the ghosts flinched. Luigi rarely used such language, but when he did…

“Tell them! Go tell them! Crazy Hand, the two Steves—you can tell Reggie for all I care! I’d love to hear how they’ll explain this! Tell f—ing Sakurai! Tell them!” This was followed by a hushed “God—mit!”

Luigi rejoined everyone outside, his face flushed, fire in his eyes.

“Professor,” he said, “have you ever been so angry that you could just—slam a ghost?”

“Not really—no,” said Gadd. “Why?”

“Because Crazy Hand is the one who helped the two Steves escape, and Master Hand is _trying_ to find them,” huffed Luigi. “Oh, and the four guys who antagonized Mario is helping him, too. They’re _very sorry_ about what they did, and ‘it won’t happen again’. Gee—where have we heard _that_ before?”

Falco shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe—maybe I can help,” he offered. “I can contact the Star Fox crew, and we can track down those three.”

“I don’t doubt your skills for a second, but this is _Crazy Hand_ we’re talking about here,” said Luigi. “He’s unpredictable, and he loves chaos.”

“Well—we’re co-conspirators,” said Falco. “They trust me—kinda. I can talk them into doing the right thing and taking the punishment.”

“Steve and Stevie put me in the hospital,” said Luigi. “They put Peach, Zelda and Link in the hospital. Who’s to say they won’t do the same thing to you?”

Falco said nothing. Luigi made a good point.

“Master Hand is smart,” said Luigi. “I know he’ll do what he can to resolve this situation.”

“I hope so,” said Falco.

“I hope so, too,” said Gadd. “My heart goes out to Mario. I hate that he’s stuck in this mess.”

“But he’ll get himself out,” said Falco. “It’s what he does.”

“I’d better call him,” said Luigi. “I don’t want him doing anything stupid.”

He headed toward the Gloomy Manor, where he could make his call in private.

“Luigi?” Gadd called after him.

Luigi turned.

A smile tweaked at the corner of the Professor’s mouth. “Slamming ghosts?”

“What? It was the only metaphor I could think of,” said Luigi before heading inside.

“Slamming ghosts,” Gadd muttered, stroking his chin. “Slamming ghosts—I’d better remember that…”

**1.1.1**

MH and Dr. Mario walked into the hospital room, where Peach lay on her bed, Mario seated beside her.

“Morning,” greeted Peach.

“Morning,” said Dr. Mario. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” responded Peach.

“How about you, Mario?” asked MH.

“Can’t complain,” said Mario.

“I’ve enlisted the help of the three primary conspirators of Project Nerf to bring my brother and the two Steves back to their senses,” said MH. “In exchange, they will only be fined for their role in this mess, and I’ve promised them that they’ll come to no harm.” He cast Mario a severe gaze as he spoke.

“They really want to help?” asked Peach.

“I sensed genuine remorse when we spoke,” said MH.

“What about Steve, Stevie and Crazy Hand?” Mario wanted to know.

“I’ll deal with them,” said MH. “If I want to avoid a messy end to this, then I must provide them an incentive to give themselves up.”

Mario pressed his lips together, but he said nothing.

Dr. Mario checked Peach’s vitals. “Wow—you’ve recovered nicely,” he said. “You’ll be out of here by this afternoon.”

“In that case,” said Peach, “Mario and I would like to head for the MK as soon as I’m discharged.”

“Are you sure you’ll be in any condition to travel?” asked MH.

“She will,” said Dr. Mario. “Her vitals are normal, she doesn’t have a concussion, there are no fractures—just bruises. She’s healed quicker than I expected.”

“I’d still recommend that you wait until this evening, when all of the matches have concluded,” said MH. “I’ve arranged a few easy bouts for you, but as soon as you feel unwell, please let someone know.”

“Okay,” said Peach.

“Will you be okay, Mario?” asked MH.

“I’ll do my best,” Mario replied.

His cell phone rang.

“Excuse me,” said Mario, stepping outside to take the call.

“Don’t worry about Mario,” said Peach. “He’s been through worse than this.”

“I just don’t want him to attack those two again and get himself into more trouble,” MH explained.

“Is that it?” asked Peach. “Or do you just want an excuse to keep antagonizing him over what he’s already done?”

“All Smashers must face the consequences for breaking my rules,” MH told her. “No exceptions.”

“He won’t attack them again,” said Peach. “I’ll make sure of that.”

“He loves you,” acknowledged MH, “and he loves your kingdom, and he loves Luigi. He’ll do anything to keep all of you safe. But the fact of the matter is—I’ll set a bad example if I just let him do what he wants in the name of protecting you.”

Peach smiled. “Well—we don’t need protection all of the time,” she said, “but we _do_ appreciate his help.”

“I’ll let you rest for now,” said MH, “but make sure to let me know when you’re about to head to the MK.”

“Will do,” said Peach.

She laid back on the bed and closed her eyes as MH took his leave.

**1.1.1**

“Luigi…” Mario slumped against the wall upon hearing his baby bro’s voice.

“Hey, Mario,” said Luigi. “I heard about what happened. Are—are you all right?”

“Y—yeah, I’m fine.”

“How about Peach—is she all right?”

“She’s okay—she’ll be out and about sometime this afternoon.”

“Link and Zelda…”

“Same condition. They’re all fighters,” Mario assured him. “How about you? How are you holding up?”

“The best I can,” said Luigi. “I’ve spent the last few days helping Gadd and hanging around with the ghosts. I—really shouldn’t tell you this, but a surprise visitor dropped in hours after I arrived.”

“Who?” asked Mario.

“Falco.”

“Falco?” Mario’s throat tightened. “How…?”

“Professor Gadd wanted to help us sort things out,” explained Luigi.

“And—are you?”

“Well—we’re spending time together. I’m showing Falco around. And we haven’t gotten into another shouting match yet. You should see him interacting with the ghosts here.”

“You’re serious about this,” realized Mario. “You really want to be friends with him again. Even after what he said.”

“Well—not yet. I’m not rushing into a reconciliation. And give him some credit—he apologized. He wants our friendship back as much as me.”

“There comes a time when we must all answer for our actions,” said Mario.

A beat.

“I agree,” said Luigi.

“What will happen when you get back?” asked Mario. “As far as you and Falco are concerned?”

“We’ll just—take things slowly. Match by match, day by day. Look, Mario—he wants to atone. He’s going to that meeting. And if you act like you want to attack him the second you see him, then that’ll discourage him.”

“I’m not gonna attack him,” promised Mario.

“Bro…”

“I’m not gonna attack him,” Mario said again.

A pause.

“Peach and I are going to the MK later today to straighten things out,” said Mario. “After your suspension ends, how about you meet us there, and bring Falco with you?”

“Okeydokey,” said Luigi. “I doubt they believed those two, though.”

“It’s just a precaution,” said Mario. “There are still plenty of gullible people in this world.”

“You’re right,” said Luigi.

“The two Steves did what they did because they want revenge,” sighed Mario, “and I hope that someone tracks them down before they wind up in Evershade Valley.”

“They don’t know where it’s located.”

“If they find out…”

“Then I’ll be ready for them,” Luigi said confidently.

“Oh, Bro…” Mario blinked back tears. “I hope you’re heeding my advice and avoiding _him_.”

“I am. But I wish I was with you right now. You’re alone, and these sadistic people are doing these sadistic things to you…”

“I’m not alone. I’ve got Peach, and the other Smashers are rallying behind me.”

“I hope you understand why I took off…”

“I do, Lil’ Bro. I do. Even if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have seen this coming.”

“How are things with you and Master Hand?”

Mario swallowed. “Better. We’re learning to trust each other again.”

Another pause. “Liar.”

“I should’ve known I couldn’t sneak anything past you,” said Mario. “He—initially believed the two Steves’ story. Then, he called me into his office and he…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, a sob choking him.

“He reamed you out again?!”

“Yeah…”

Luigi swore in Italian.

“Chad, Charlie and a few others broke it up, and then MH threw up this black, swarm-like substance,” Mario sniffled. “I don’t know if that’s what caused him to snap, but—I can’t believe…” More sobs escaped him. “I don’t wanna tell you what he said.”

“You don’t have to,” Luigi said gently, having recovered his composure.

“I’m glad you called me,” said Mario. “It’s because of you I keep holding on. Always you…”

“I know, Mario. I know.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll let you go now. We’ll meet up in three days’ time and get ready for the meeting.”

“All right, Mario. Just hang in there.”

“Will do. Bye-bye.”

“Bye-bye.”

Mario hung up and released a shuddering breath. Then, he allowed the calm to wash over him. He needed to be strong for the people he’d sworn to protect.

**1.1.1**

Dressed in their business best, Chad and Charlie exited the car they’d rented and strode purposefully toward Daisy’s castle.

“May I help you?” asked one of the royal guards as the two entered.

“We have an audience with Princess Daisy,” said Charlie.

“Right this way,” said the guard.

Charlie and Chad followed the guard down the hall, across the lobby and up the stairs to one of the conference rooms.

“Please, sit,” instructed the guard. “The Princess will be here shortly.” On those words, the guard left.

“Well—here we go,” said Charlie as the two of them sat together.

“I’m so nervous,” Chad confessed with a laugh.

“It’s okay, Chad—just breathe,” said Charlie. “She’s not gonna eat you.”

A few more guards walked in, set some cookies and cakes on the table and walked back out.

“Thanks again for doing this, Charlie,” said Chad.

“No problem,” beamed Charlie. “Thanks for having the courage and integrity to come forward.”

Chad smiled.

The doors opened, and Chad and Charlie rose as Princess Daisy strode in, flanked by her personal guards. In lieu of her usual orange gown, she wore a sleek, form-fitting yellow dress with a big sunflower print in the middle and a sky blue bauble at her bosom. Her auburn hair was in a loose ponytail, a sterling silver necklace was around her neck and a conservative amount of makeup was applied to her face. Her bright eyes studied her two visitors.

“You stand in the presence of the Crown Princess Daisy of Sarasaland,” said one of her personal guards.

“Hello, Your Highness,” said Charlie. “My name’s Charlotte Thorne. We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

Daisy smiled. “I remember you,” she said, extending a gloved hand for Charlie to shake.

“And I’m Chad Wrainwright,” Chad introduced himself. “I’m part of the Super Smash Bros tournament.”

“Hi,” said Daisy as she and Chad shook hands.

Daisy then turned to her guards. “Leave us,” she softly commanded.

The guards obeyed.

“I understand that you have a request to make of me,” said Daisy, turning back to Charlie and Chad.

“We do,” said Chad. “Charlie and I are planning something big, and we’re hoping we could host it here in Sarasaland.”

“We’re looking for a large venue,” said Charlie. “A lot of people are gonna attend.”

“I see,” said Daisy. “What’s this event you’re planning?”

“Well, uh…” Chad cleared his throat. “It’s a meeting. Several Smashers, including me, did something terrible to another Smasher, and we wanna make things right by confessing everything.”

“So—this is a truth and reconciliation type of deal?” asked Daisy.

“It is,” said Chad.

“Wow,” said Daisy. “That’s an odd coincidence.”

Chad tilted his head. “How so?”

“Because just last month—people were pitching a fit because Luigi had so many combos,” said Daisy. “And not just Smashers—there were also tournament players who chose to throw tantrums rather than buckle down and practice. To make things worse, Master Hand and Sakurai kowtowed to them.”

Chad and Charlie exchanged a look.

“That’s what this ‘truth and reconciliation’ thing is about, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” said Charlie.

“You can call me Daisy.”

Chad chose his next words carefully. “I was in on it for a hot second, but by the time I snapped myself out of it, there was enough evidence against me,” he said. “Three of the conspirators are using that evidence as collateral to get me to do their bidding, and they made it clear that if I slipped up even once, then the evidence would fall into Mario’s lap.”

“And if you confess, then you’ll no longer be under their thumb,” said Daisy.

“Exactly,” said Charlie.

“However, we need to keep this meeting private,” said Chad. “If my enemies find out about it, then it’ll be a disaster.”

“Who are your enemies?” asked Daisy.

“Two guys named Steve,” replied Chad, “and Crazy Hand.”

“You mean the two brutes who beat up my man?” gasped Daisy.

“Yes,” said Chad.

“And Crazy Hand is the assistant master of ceremonies!” exclaimed Daisy. “Why would he…?”

“We don’t know,” sighed Charlie. “We honestly don’t know.”

“This is ridiculous,” said Daisy. “Luigi has been harassed, dumped on and subjected to senseless hate from the beginning. He’s spent most of his adult life trying to prove himself a hero. Even after facing his fears twice, he’s been denounced as a scaredy-cat. Any other person would’ve broken under all of that, but Luigi’s an extraordinary guy. And I’m lucky to be in love with him.”

“You’ve done a good job supporting him,” said Chad. “That’s why I picked Sarasaland to hold the meeting.”

“When will it take place?” asked Daisy.

“Four days from now,” replied Chad. “We also need to stop Crazy Hand and the two Steves before they enact their next plan—Operation Ballot Box.”

Daisy blinked. “Ballot Box?” Then, the realization dawned on her. “God Almighty…”

“Yep. They wanna lock you out of Smash—for good.”

Daisy compressed her lips. “They let Peach in, they let Rosalina in—they practically let in every princess except me,” she said. “Since Mario rescued me from that alien creep, I’ve been relegated to the back-burner. Nintendo only put me in sports games and spin-offs, but I was never a major character. So many people have dissed me as a potential Smasher that I’ve forgotten all of their names.”

“Which—happens to all Smash hopefuls,” said Chad. “No need to be a drama queen about it. Here’s what I need—a venue large enough to seat at least 30 people, including but not limited to a giant hand, a hulking reptile and a bulky Gerudo.”

“Koopa was in on this?” asked Daisy. “I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s buddy-buddy with Luigi one day and antagonizing him the next. Don’t worry—I’ll get you a venue. It’ll be in the heart of the Capital and closed to the press so word won’t get out. But we’ll also need vendors, security, first-aid—and that costs money.”

“We’ll chip in and bring our own food,” said Charlie. “We don’t need anything fancy—maybe some hot dogs, croissant sandwiches, pigs in a blanket—stuff like that.”

“I’ll pull some strings and get you guys some food,” Daisy assured them, “but security and first-aid is the main thing. How do you plan to spread the word?”

“I’ll send hand-written letters to those who are willing to come,” said Chad, “and I also want to keep them updated in real-time without CH intercepting my messages.”

“We can help you with that,” said Daisy. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I’ll call a meeting with my advisors to decide on a venue and who to hire as the security. Hopefully, we’ll come to a decision by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you, Daisy,” said Chad.

“Feel free to help yourself to some sweets before you leave,” said Daisy.

“We will,” said Charlie.

“And Daisy?” asked Chad.

“Yeah?”

“Take it easy on them,” implored Chad. “Try not to scare them _too_ much.”

“I make no promises,” Daisy said with a sweet smile.

Chad and Charlie shook hands with the Flower Princess before she walked out of the room.

**1.1.1**

The two Steves were still in hiding with CH when the Hand of Destruction’s cell phone buzzed.

“Who’s that?” Stevie asked cautiously.

“It’s Vince,” replied CH. “He’s standing right outside with his three brothers.”

Steve and Stevie exchanged looks.

“Let them in,” Steve said finally.

CH crossed the room and opened the door, allowing the Bennigan Brothers to enter. Salutations and handshakes were exchanged.

“How did you find us?” asked Stevie.

“We participated in a scheme together,” Vince said craftily. “My brothers and I could find you anywhere.”

“What brings you to our humble abode?” Steve queried.

“Do we need a reason to check up on our boldest conspirators—and our surprise benefactor?” cooed Manny. “Listen, Steve and Stevie—it’s true that our last interaction was acrimonious, but—we were just trying to look out for you. Getting Mario upset won’t do us any favors.”

“Well—he’s gonna get upset if he finds out about Project Nerf,” Stevie said smartly, “so sooner or later, he’ll be after us.”

“Even so,” said Shane, “my brothers and I wanna put the past behind us. So, what do you say? Are we friends again?”

The two Steves smiled.

“Ah, what the heck,” said Stevie. “We were enemies for a day, but we’re conspirators for life.”

“What he just said—goes double for me,” smiled Steve.

The two of them hugged the Bennigan Brothers as CH smiled on.

“We’re glad you’re here,” said Steve once the hugfest ended. “Chad Wrainwright bailed on us. We fear that he could spill the beans on our operation.”

Manny frowned. “Chad bailed a long time ago. He only showed up for two meetings before deciding this was ‘too extreme’ for him.”

“I thought I could reel him in by holding the evidence of his collaboration, however brief, as leverage,” sighed CH. “I thought wrong.”

“We’re trying to track him down,” said Stevie. “Any idea where he is?”

“Not at all,” said Vince. “We haven’t really spoken. And there are far more pressing matters to contend with.”

“What’s that?” asked Steve.

“There’s reason to believe that the Mario Bros have already learned of Project Nerf,” said Stu, “and there’re extremely fired up about the stunt you just pulled on Peach. Targeting Zelda has also put Link on the warpath.”

“Oh, dear,” sighed Steve.

“And MH—has started asking us questions about Luigi’s nerf,” added Manny. “We managed to bluff our way out, thank goodness, but I don’t know how long our story will hold.”

“What we’re about to ask of you is difficult,” said Vince, “but you need to give yourselves up to Master Hand with all haste. MH could show you some leniency if you do.”

“And deal with that plumber? Not a chance!” balked CH.

“Don’t you want to clear your name?” asked Vince.

“It won’t be long until your brother comes to you for answers,” added Shane. “Returning to the Smash Mansion will be a show of good faith, and it will take some of the suspicion off of you.”

“Say for the sake of argument that Mario and Link manage to track you down,” said Vince. “After what you did to their respective Princesses, Steve and Stevie face a harsh beatdown, and CH will come under fire for aiding and abetting them. If you turn yourselves in to Master Hand, then you’ll only have to deal with him, and he’ll tell Mario and Link not to antagonize you.”

“What—did he tell you that?” scoffed Stevie.

“Did he ask you to come here?” added CH.

“Heavens, no!” balked Shane. “We tracked you down because we care about you, and we want you to make the right choice.”

“Wh—why did you do that, anyway?” asked Vince.

“Link and Zelda eavesdropped on Koopa, Wario and Dorf gloating about Project Nerf,” explained Steve, “and there’s no doubt that they told Master Hand. We wanted to discourage them from delving further into the matter.”

“How does Peach factor into this?” Stu wanted to know. “Was she just in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

“When I sent Jimmy and his team after Mario, Peach saw them coming and tipped off her hero,” said CH.

“And that’s a bad thing?” asked Manny.

“For us, it was!” cried Stevie. “They nearly caused our plans to fall apart!”

“What plans?” asked Vince. “Our top priority right now is keeping Project Nerf under wraps! We won’t even start on Operation Ballot Box until next month! Look—each action causes a reaction. Striking against those near and dear to Mario will cause him to strike back and put our future projects at risk. There’s still time to clean up this mess. Surrender yourselves to MH while you still have the chance.”

CH floated there, stunned. “Who are you, and what have you done with the Bennigan Brothers we used to know?” he asked. “The ones who dedicated their lives to making things difficult for Luigi, no matter what got in their way?”

“Those days are long gone!” cried Vince. “We had our eyes opened! We’ve come to realize that there’s more to offer in life than making someone we don’t even know miserable!”

“My God—you’ve gone soft,” gasped Steve. “Somehow, we knew this would happen.”

“Watching people beat up Luigi lost its appeal,” sighed Manny, “at least, to us. I don’t know about you guys. Maybe you had it in for Luigi from the beginning, and Project Nerf was a means to an end.”

“What has he done to you, anyway?” challenged Shane, “besides defeat you in a fair fight?”

“What has he done to _you_?” CH shot back.

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged looks. They were unable to answer that question.

“All we’re saying is—you’re in enough trouble as it is,” said Vince. “They’re gonna find you sooner or later—so it might as well be sooner.”

“So—that’s it, then?” Stevie asked in disbelief. “You’re bailing on your own brainchild?”

“It was a poorly-conceived brainchild,” said Manny. “If we’d known something like this would happen, then we wouldn’t have dreamed it up. But it’s the beginning of a new age. The sooner you accept that, the better.”

There was a nasty silence.

“You f—ing traitors,” CH said in a low, calm voice. “You’re siding with Luigi now?”

“We didn’t come here to fight,” Shane said evenly. “We came here to talk some sense into you.”

“Yes, well—I think we’re done talking,” said Stevie. “Mark our words—the next time we meet, it will be as enemies.”

Vince’s face hardened. “So be it.”

“Go. Now,” CH hissed.

With their heads held high, the Bennigan Brothers filed out of the room, closing the door behind them.

**1.1.1**

Back in the Smash Mansion, Peach, Zelda and Link had signed their discharge paperwork and were getting ready to leave the hospital when someone tapped softly on the door.

“Who is it?” asked Link.

“Poyo!”

“Kirby?” asked Peach.

The door opened, and the Star Warrior tottered inside, three get-well cards tucked in under his arm. A big smile was on his face as he handed the cards to the trio.

“Wow, Kirby,” said Peach as she read her get-well card. “Thanks!”

“Poyo,” said Kirby, motioning for the trio to follow him.

They went off to Kirby’s room, where another get-well card lay on his desk. Kirby picked it up and showed it off to Link, Peach and Zelda.

“Is that—for Luigi?” asked Zelda.

“Poy,” replied Kirby.

Then, the Star Warrior led the trio to the Main Hall, where the other Smashers were gathered.

“What’s this about, Kirbs?” asked Fox. Then, his eyes fell on the card. “Oh, my—is that…?”

“Poyo poyo!”

Kirby set the card on one of the desks, upon which several markers were scattered. Then, he gazed over his fellow Smashers. “Poyo?”

Solemnly, the Smashers formed a single-file line in front of the card. Each of them took a marker and wrote a brief message on it before signing their names. Even Marth, Koopa, Dorf, Wario, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit and Chase, among those who didn’t think highly of Luigi, signed their names on the card.

“This is very sweet of you, Kirby,” Mario said warmly.

Kirby smiled warmly. “Poyo!” he chirped.

Once the Smashers had signed the card, Kirby added his own message and signature. Master Hand floated into the room, flanked by Lauren, Eden, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy, Rory and Amy. They, too, signed the get-well card, and then MH slipped it into an envelope, which he addressed and then stamped.

“I’ll send this by express mail to Evershade Valley,” said MH. “Thank you, Kirby. I know that Luigi will appreciate the gesture.”

“Poyo poyo poyoyo poyo,” Kirby said softly.

“Before you do that,” said Mario, “how about you send it to Sarasaland first? I’m sure Daisy would like to sign the card, as well.”

“Of course,” said MH. “After dinner this evening, you and Peach are free to go to the MK.”

Mario smiled. “Thank you, Master Hand.”

**1.1.1**

“Good—you’re packing,” said Rory when he ventured into his sister’s room.

“You really want me to follow him to the MK?” asked Amy as she put another stack of neatly folded clothes into her suitcase. “Why would he cause any trouble there?”

“We just want to make sure he doesn’t,” said Rory.

“All he wants is to disprove the two Steves’ lies,” Amy said softly.

“Yes, we understand, but…” Rory sighed. “Until tensions between him and Master Hand are resolved, we don’t know what he’s gonna do.” He gave Amy a manila envelope. “These are the details of the hotel reservation I comped for you.”

“Perfect,” smiled Amy as she slid the folder into her carry-on.

“Of course, we don’t believe in all work and no play,” said Rory, “so when you have time, do some sightseeing. Relax. Try to at least act like a tourist.”

“That won’t be too difficult,” said Amy.

She zipped both her suitcases closed. “All right—I think that’s everything.”

“I have a car ready to take you to the airport,” said Rory, “but before you leave—I have something for you.”

Remy appeared in the doorway, holding a case. Rory opened it and took out a steel baton, which he handed to Amy.

“Whoa,” Amy breathed as she studied her brother’s gift.

The baton was light purple and covered with silver and gold glitter. Amy skimmed her thumb across it, pausing when she found a small button. Pressing that button caused the baton to extend outwards.

Rory grinned. “It telescopes,” he said. “There’s no telling who you might run into in the MK.”

“Cool,” said Amy.

“Turn it over,” instructed Rory.

Amy obliged. Engraved in the metal was a simple but sweet message: _To my cool lil’ sis, with love—Rory_.

“That means,” smiled Rory, “that I’ll be in the MK with you in spirit, protecting you.”

Amy pressed her lips together, set down the baton and jumped into Rory’s arms.

Rory buried his face into Amy’s shoulder. “Be careful out there,” he entreated.

“I will,” breathed Amy.

The siblings parted from the embrace, and then Amy pressed the button on her baton again, retracting the telescoping portion.

“Mind if I see you off?” asked Rory.

“Absolutely,” replied Amy. She felt truly blessed to have a brother like Rory.

The two of them left the Smash Mansion together as Remy looked on.


	18. T Plus 17 Days

Morning fell over Sarasaland, and Chad stirred as the sunlight peeped in through the windows. With a yawn, he sat up in bed and looked over at the bed next to him, only to discover that it was empty.

“Ch—Charlie?” he asked. “Charlie?”

“I’m in the shower,” Charlie’s muffled voice responded.

Chad slumped in relief before unmuting the TV and watching the morning news.

“Attempts are still underway to locate Steven Ordway and Steven Beck, who also goes by ‘Stevie’,” the anchor was saying. “As you know, the two of them escaped the Smash Mansion two days ago after injuring three Smashers, and Crazy Hand, the tournament’s assistant master of ceremonies, is suspected of helping them. Residents of the Smash World are encouraged to remain vigilant, as the escapees are considered extremely dangerous. If you have any information on the whereabouts of these three individuals, please call the number on your screen.”

“Hey, Charlie,” said Chad.

“Yeah?”

“Crazy Hand and the two Steves are on the run,” said Chad. “We need to be more careful.”

“I still can’t believe they did that to Peach,” said Charlie’s voice, “and Link and Zelda—I hope they’re okay.”

“So do I,” said Chad.

A few moments later, Charlie emerged from the shower, her hair and her body wrapped in towels.

“Before I jumped into the shower, Daisy sent me a text,” she said. “She and her advisors have agreed on a venue, and she wants to meet with us as soon as possible to discuss it.”

“Great,” said Chad. “We’ll head over after breakfast.”

“What do you think Mario’s gonna do regarding those lies the two Steves told the newspaper?” asked Charlie.

“Knowing him—I think he’ll try to smooth things over. Rumor has it that he’s headed over to the MK to address the Toads.”

“What about Peach?” asked Charlie.

“She was discharged from the hospital yesterday, along with Zelda and Link.”

“She’s coming with him?”

“Of course.”

Charlie unraveled the towel around her hair, which she patted dry before running a comb through it. Then, she faced away from Chad and dropped the towel from around her body.

“I heard,” said Chad as he studied his companion’s bare back, “that Falco has joined Luigi in Evershade Valley. You think they’ll work things out?”

“Maybe they will,” Charlie replied as she swept her hair into a ponytail.

“I hope they do,” said Chad. “After backing out of Project Nerf, I tried to encourage Falco to talk to Luigi. At first, he wouldn’t heed my advice, but he eventually did after that elevator debacle.”

“It was quite a coincidence—the power going out as the two boarded an elevator together.”

“Yeah,” murmured Chad. “I helped with the rescue effort, and when I saw the two of them seated together, it touched my heart. However, I think they still have a long way to go.”

“You’re right,” said Charlie. “Things like that can’t be rushed.”

She slipped into a pair of panties before pulling on a dress. “What about you and him?” she wanted to know.

“I—really don’t know,” sighed Chad. “Maybe after the meeting, I’ll be able to tell.” He got out of bed. “It’s my turn to hog the shower.”

As Chad freshened up, Charlie washed her hands and heated up two of the croissant sandwiches she’d packed with her, timing things so that the sandwiches would be ready once Chad emerged from the shower.

Chad accepted one of the sandwiches with a smile, clad in a bathrobe provided by the hotel. The two sat together on the edge of one of the beds to eat it.

Once they were finished, Chad threw off his robe to change into an outfit he’d selected last night.

“Should I tell Daisy that we’re on our way?” asked Charlie as she, too, ogled Chad’s backside.

“Sure, why not?”

So, Charlie contacted Daisy, telling her that they were headed toward the castle, as Chad dressed in a tailored, three-piece suit and tie. After Charlie finished talking to Daisy, Chad slicked back his hair and turned to her with a grin.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“You look amazing,” said Charlie.

“And so do you,” Chad warmly replied.

Charlie slid her feet into a pair of comfortable pumps. “All right,” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

After they palmed their room keys and turned off the TV, the duo headed out for another meeting with Daisy.

**1.1.1**

Charlie and Chad were received by Daisy’s royal guards upon arrival at the castle. They were escorted to a room with a large, oval-shaped table, upon which sat an assortment of cakes, pastries and beverages.

Daisy waited for them, wearing a strapless turquoise gown. “I didn’t know if you’d already eaten,” she said, explaining the food.

“That’s fine,” said Chad. “We’ll work up an appetite again soon enough.”

The three of them shook hands before sitting at the table.

“My advisors and I have decided that the Sarasaland Community Center is the perfect venue for your meeting,” said Daisy. “There are three huge meeting halls, plenty of restrooms and plenty of parking. Of course, carpooling is strongly encouraged, as it’ll cost $5 dollars to park.”

“What about security?” asked Charlie.

“About half of my guards will join a private security team in maintaining order,” replied Daisy. “As for the food, there will be twenty different vendors, and all of the nearby restaurants will offer discounts to the attendees. In addition, we’ve made arrangements with the nearby hotels to house the attendees at a lower rate.”

“How about food trucks?” Chad put in.

“Food trucks—that’s a great idea,” said Daisy.

“Maybe—some entertainment?” proposed Charlie.

“Yeah,” said Chad. “This shouldn’t be a humdrum affair, after all.”

“You’re absolutely right,” said Daisy. “I’ll see if I can get some live bands and DJs to perform—maybe set up an entertainment area outside. And a kiddie area, just in case.”

“This meeting needs to be open to the public, but closed to the press,” said Chad.

“I’ll have notices put up saying that photography and video recording is prohibited,” said Daisy. “Anyone violating that rule will be fined.”

“I have a few pictures of Steve and Stevie,” said Charlie, “along with some pictures of Crazy Hand. I’ll print them out and have them circulated, so that your security can be on the lookout for them.”

“I was just about to get to that,” said Daisy. “Thanks, Charlie.”

“I’d better pass on the news,” said Chad. “May I have a pen and some paper, please?”

“Sure,” replied Daisy.

In short order, Chad had several pens and a stack of lined paper handy, and as Daisy and Charlie, watched, he began to write out invites to his meeting.

**1.1.1**

“I just checked into the hotel,” Amy said to Rory over the phone as she strode into the hotel room, a bellhop behind her. “And I must say—the room you picked for me is incredible.”

“Anything for my little sister,” replied Rory.

Amy quietly thanked the bellhop as he placed her suitcases on her bed. “The floor-to-ceiling windows will give me a nice view,” she said, “and I have a fridge and a minibar and a Jacuzzi—this really is a home away from home.”

“Indeed,” said Rory, “but don’t let the amenities distract you. You’ve got to keep an eye on Mario and Peach, in case they decide to stir up trouble in the MK.”

“What kind of trouble could they possibly stir up?”

“Er—making MH the bad guy, for starters. Imagine what would happen if they turned the MK against him. It would hurt not only him but also the tournament.”

“MH and Mario are starting to patch things up,” said Amy, “but I’ll be on the lookout in case that happens.” She gave the bellhop a nod as he took his leave. “By my reckoning, they’ll spend most of the day in Peach’s castle. I don’t know if they’ll let me inside.”

“You don’t have to enter the castle. You can just observe them from a distance,” Rory told her. “Try not to be too conspicuous. If anyone talks to you, then act natural. There should be nothing to worry about, but if trouble arises, don’t be afraid to use the baton I gave you.”

“I won’t,” smiled Amy.

“Commit your task to memory, and keep your eyes and ears open,” said Rory. “I’ll call you this evening.”

“Great. Talk to you then.”

“I love you, Amy.”

“I love you more.”

Amy hung up and started unpacking. She had quite the adventure ahead of her, and she couldn’t wait to meet it head-on.

**1.1.1**

The limo rolled to a stop at the castle entrance. A Toad opened the door, and out stepped Peach, followed by Mario.

“Thank God!” exclaimed the Toad. “There are rumors swirling everywhere! We really hope you can clear this up!”

“Or else we wouldn’t be here,” said Peach.

“Everyone is seated in the Main Hall and awaiting your arrival,” the Toad went on.

“Are they mad at me?” asked Mario.

“Of course not,” the Toad said brightly. “They’re just—confused.”

“Well, the confusion ends today,” Mario said determinedly.

The Toad led Mario and Peach to the Main Hall, where rows upon rows of Toads sat, their heads turning in synch when they heard the trio enter.

And they all gave Peach and Mario a standing ovation.

“Thank you,” said Peach. “Thank you all for coming.”

Peach sat down at her usual spot, with Mario seated beside her.

“Wait—where’s Luigi?” asked a Green Toad.

“He’s decided to retreat for a few days to clear his head,” Mario replied, “but he’ll be back here on the 19th.”

“My prayers are with him,” said the Green Toad.

Murmurs of assent.

“However, we need to get to the task at hand,” said Toadsworth as he arrived and took a seat on Peach’s other side. “As all of you know, there have been reports circulating of Mario premeditating an attack on two men in the Smash tournament. At this time, I’d like to invite Mario to separate the facts from the fiction.”

Mario rose. “Thank you, Toadsworth,” he said. “I’d like to start by saying—that I indeed got into a physical fight with two fellow Smashers named Steve and Stevie.”

Gasps.

“This isn’t you, Mario,” said a Blue Toad. “You don’t start fights with people unless there’s a valid reason.”

“I—was just getting to that part,” said Mario. “The day prior to the incident, the two Steves—hurt my bro.”

“I knew it,” said a Purple Toad.

“You see, Luigi spent the last month dealing with flack over his playstyle, particularly his down throw combos,” Mario explained. “Some Smashers, and I won’t name names, chose to whine to MH about it, rather than buckle down and practice. And MH caved to them and contacted Mr. Sakurai, who released an update patch. This patch nerfed my bro’s down throw and got rid of the combos, causing those who previously complained about it to start in on him. Steve and Stevie were among them. Three days after the update patch, Luigi was minding his own business in the Training Area when the two Steves approached him. At first, he was able to fight them off, but one of them took a cheap shot at him, and it just deteriorated from there. They beat him so badly that he wound up in the hospital.

“He made me promise that I wouldn’t retaliate, and I tried to keep that promise, but then—I came across them while I was taking a walk, _gloating_ about it. I just—lost it. That’s why I attacked them. And that’s why they’ve decided to play the victims and try to paint me as the bad guy.”

Toadsworth was silent for a moment. “That—explains a lot,” he said finally. “All of us here see why you did it—and we know that the two Steves weren’t telling the truth. However, we just can’t believe that it was your first course of action.”

“That’s what they all say,” said Mario, “but can you put yourself in my shoes for a moment? Going for a walk, trying to stay in control, only to come across your brother’s attackers showing a blatant lack of remorse for beating him bloody. What would you have done—besides try to ignore them?”

Silence.

“Mario—we’re not accusing you of anything,” a Toad reassured him. “We just want some insight into this situation. I mean, you’ve always wanted to protect Luigi. You’ve always wanted to protect Peach and protect us. These are the core motivations behind most of your actions, and we get that. But—we were shocked, and dare we say _shaken_, when we found out that you went crazy on those two men.”

“So was I,” said Peach. “The two of us had a talk about it, and I told him that you’d have mixed feelings about it. But I assure you, Mario is no bully who’s looking for a fight.”

“I won’t apologize for what I did,” said Mario, “but I _will_ apologize for causing you to doubt me.”

Toadsworth beamed. “Apology accepted,” he said. “However, there must be more to this story. Please, tell us.”

Mario took a deep breath. “You _do_ need to know this,” he conceded. “After I attacked the two Steves, MH read me the riot act and said these _things_ to me—he accused me of being a bad brother and putting Luigi in danger. He brought up what happened in 2001, and he brought up the Chaos Heart and the Negative Zone. Essentially, he said that it was all my fault, that Luigi was traumatized because of me—and he said that I was a just an adrenaline junkie who gave no thought to your well-being!”

The Toads sat there, astonished. Then—

“That f—ing glove!” snapped Toadette. “I’ll tear him apart!”

The other Toads shouted their assent as anger burned.

“You’ll do no such thing,” admonished Mario. “I’m trying to take the high road here and put it behind me. And besides, revenge won’t change the fact that it happened.”

Everyone settled back down as Mario’s words sunk in.

“But do you forgive him?” asked Toadsworth. “Truly?”

“I…” responded Mario. “I don’t know.”

“What happened after that?” asked Toadette.

“I started receiving evidence of a scheme known as Project Nerf,” said Mario. “Several Smashers had colluded to manipulate both MH and Mr. Sakurai in order to get Luigi nerfed. Or maybe Mr. Sakurai was in on it, as well. Anyway, five days after my run-in with the two Steves, Crazy Hand, MH’s twin brother, sent four men to attack me. I wound up cornered and beaten to a pulp, and two of the men just…” He paused, shoving away a slight choke in his voice. “They kicked me while I was down and went on and on about what a failure I was. And every night since, I’ve thanked God and the Star Spirits that Luigi showed up when he did.”

“Luigi—walked in on that?” gasped a Toad.

“Yes. I was just about to give up when he appeared in the doorway, and the look on his face—Luigi’s always come through for me, even in times when we don’t see eye-to-eye. The four men turned their attention on him, but…” He smiled. “Good old Luigi. He can really hold his own against the best of them, contrary to what others say and think. I regained my strength and helped him, and then we told MH about it. The four said that they were acting on both MH’s and CH’s orders, but MH smoothed things over. That’s when we suspected that CH knew more about Luigi’s nerf than he was letting on. Unfortunately—MH suspended my bro.”

“Why?” asked another Toad.

“He was fighting outside of the tournament, which is against the rules,” huffed Mario, “but what choice did he have? He saw me in peril and…”

“Wow,” said Toadette.

“MH had already suspended me for my _encounter_ with the two Steves,” Mario went on, “but he tacked on ten additional days because I was also engaged in a fight outside of the tournament.” He rolled his eyes. “Then, Koopa decided to twist the knife by making off with Peach. He was _courteous_ enough to inform us two hours in advance. Anyway, after we got back, Luigi decided to take a brief break to clear his head. He’s resting up in Evershade Valley.”

The Toads exchanged looks.

“Mario,” said Toadsworth. “Where do we go from here?”

“One of the Smashers, Chad Wrainwright, has organized a meeting which will give those who participated in Project Nerf the opportunity to confess. This meeting will take place in three days, and all of you are encouraged to come.”

“Will MH be present?” asked a Toad.

“Yes,” replied Mario, “but I ask that you treat him as an ally, not as an enemy. He’s quite remorseful for blowing up at me.”

“Any idea where it’s being held?” asked another Toad.

“Chad is trying to keep the details under wraps,” said Mario. “Crazy Hand and the two Steves are antagonizing him, and he doesn’t want them to find out about this venture.”

“Was Chad in on the scheme, as well?” asked the Green Toad.

“Initially,” replied Mario. “He wants to make amends, but CH and the two Steves don’t want him to. They’ve tried to keep him under their thumb by threatening to come to me with evidence of his involvement. As you can tell—he already confessed to me.”

“And when Chad and the other conspirators confess,” Peach spoke up, “I ask that you listen to them with an open mind. Don’t attack them until they’d at least had their say. We shouldn’t try to excuse their behavior, but getting hostile with them won’t help, either.”

The Toads murmured and chattered among themselves.

“If you’ll have us,” Toadette said finally, “then we’d like to look over the evidence you already have.”

“Of course,” said Peach. “I’ll hook up my laptop to a projection screen.”

With help from some tech-savvy Toads, Peach did just that. Everyone in the room held their breath as Mario inserted his flash drive into the USB port.

**1.1.1**

“I’m sorry, MH,” said Vince. “We couldn’t get through to them.”

“That’s quite all right,” said MH. “I now understand that they won’t surrender themselves without the proper incentive.”

“What’s your plan of action?” asked Shane.

“I plan to sweet-talk my dear twin brother into a trap, and I hope to get Mr. Sakurai involved, as well,” said MH. “The four of you did the best you could, and that’s all that matters.”

“Is our bargain still on the table?” quizzed Vince.

“It is—on one condition,” MH told him. “All four of you attend Chad’s meeting and provide an honest account of your manipulations.”

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged a look.

“Agreed,” Vince said finally.

“Good,” said MH. “I’ll see you then.”

The four men nodded and filed out of the giant glove’s office.

“If CH finds out about this meeting, then he’ll be none too happy,” warned Stu.

“We’ll have to take that risk,” said Manny. “We can’t afford to keep this under wraps anymore.”

“Chad’s smart,” Vince put in. “He’ll make sure CH is kept in the dark.”

Shane shuddered. “Accepting his help with this was a huge mistake,” he said.

“All of this was a mistake,” mused Vince, “and it’s up to us to make it right.”

**1.1.1**

Back in Evershade Valley, Falco cautiously ventured into his makeshift workshop, his Blaster tight in his hands. He approached the Boo Canister and tentatively peeked inside. And there was King Boo, a rare smile on his face as he gave his fellow Boos rides on his back. Falco watched as the large Boo rolled and did loop-de-loops in the air, the smaller Boos giggling as they held on for the ride. A sigh escaped the avian, remembering the Arwing rides he used to give Luigi.

“Oh! Hey, Falco!” King Boo greeted as he glided to a stop, the Boos thanking him before floating off.

“Hey, KB,” said Falco.

“Boy—our mutual friend was very upset when he found out about Mario being defamed and libeled,” said King Boo.

“You heard that?”

“Yeah—and we’d never heard him use such language before.” King Boo laughed. “Well—we kinda did, but not like that.”

“You seem in good spirits,” said Falco. “You’re not plotting anything, are you?”

“Why, my dear Falco, I’m always plotting something. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

All of the Boos cackled.

“Would you—like to see my private photo collection?” asked King Boo.

Falco blinked. “Do I have a choice?”

“Not really.”

“Okay, then,” said Falco.

“Wait here,” King Boo said before disappearing.

He reappeared soon after, an envelope in one of his appendages.

“Where…?” Falco started to ask, but King Boo shushed him.

“There are things about my stay in this Bunker that you don’t need to know,” King Boo said cryptically as he floated upward.

Falco saw the envelope sticking out through a slot atop the Boo Canister.

“Take it,” said King Boo. “Have a gander, and tell me what you think.”

Falco obliged, opening the envelope and carefully removing the photos. And as he flitted through each one, he started feeling minutely sick to his stomach.

“Dude!” he exclaimed.

King Boo laughed. “I know, right?”

“These are just pictures of Luigi—shirtless!” gasped Falco.

Indeed, the photos consisted of gratuitous, intricately detailed shots of Luigi’s bare upper body, most of the time in close-up so Falco could glimpse every last muscle etched into the skin. In a few of these photos, the bare chest and torso were pressed against a soapy window as Luigi washed his car.

Falco raised his head and looked into King Boo’s morbidly grinning face. “Where did you get these?”

“Why should I tell you?” scoffed the King. “You’ll just rush off and tattle to him.”

“You’re d—n right I will!” snapped Falco.

“Which is why I’ll never tell,” taunted King Boo.

“You’re f—ing sick,” said Falco.

“Sick? If I was sick, then I’d send for pictures of him completely naked,” said King Boo, having the gall to look offended. “There are laws against that.”

“You don’t want to break the law—but you want to trap people in paintings because they made you upset,” said Falco.

“A King’s gotta have standards, you know,” huffed the Master of Illusions. “And just look at those photos, Falco. Are they _not_ artistic? The photographers I’ve commissioned did a lot of experimenting with warm light and contrast and deep focus, and it works with Luigi. It just _works_! The warm lighting is just perfect for Luigi’s complexion—it brings out all of the contours and muscles of his body. His navel is positioned at the center axis to give a visual focal point, and the deep focus and high contrast just makes him—pop. Thank God he takes time to shave; it’s the smooth skin that makes these photos work!” He laughed. “I think I’m gonna call these photos ‘The Ideal Plumber’. They’ll hold me over until I finally get the real deal in my grasp.”

Falco slid the photos back into the envelope and gave them back to King Boo.

“Thoughts?” asked King Boo.

“Well—it’s official,” said Falco. “You’re obsessed with Luigi.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t I say he has a nice body?” giggled King Boo. “I hate that he sucked me into that stupid vacuum and humiliated me, but I don’t really hate him. Like I said—I enjoy him. I just like him better in a portrait—along with his friends.”

Falco took a reflexive step back.

King Boo slid out one of his photos and traced a loving appendage around Luigi’s image. “Oh, Luigi,” he cooed. “I have big plans for you.”

“J—s,” breathed Falco. “Koopa doesn’t act this obsessive over Mario.”

“My political ally doesn’t appreciate the beauty of fine art,” sighed King Boo. “He’s too busy wooing princesses.”

“_You_ need to find yourself a Princess,” said Falco. “Or maybe you’re obsessed with Luigi because you’ve already found one, and you’re unfortunately incapable of ‘wooing’ her?”

King Boo was confused. “What?”

“Aw, don’t feel bad about it,” Falco went on. “You’ve just got some performance issues. It’s not that uncommon. You know—one out of five.”

“I don’t need a Princess,” King Boo said smartly. “I have Luigi.” He pressed the photo to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Look at it this way—he thinks of me every night. _I_ think of _him_ every night. Doesn’t that mean that we share something special?”

Falco was now sufficiently grossed-out.

“But—enough talk about Luigi,” said King Boo, putting the photo back into the envelope before putting the envelope away. “I have some interesting news to share with you.”

“What’s that?” asked Falco.

“I have my very own fan club!” King Boo cheerfully announced. “Isn’t it _awesome_? I never thought there were people out there who actually see things _my_ way! I mean, Koopa has a few fan clubs because he’s incredibly buff, but me—I’m normally seen as some sort of sicko instead of the art connoisseur I truly am.”

“Hm. Tell me more about this—fan club,” said Falco.

King Boo fetched a Post-It note and a pen and wrote something down before tearing off the Post-It and giving it to the avian. “Here’s their website,” he said. “They also have a Facebook group—just type ‘King Boo fan club’ into the search box. This fan club meets every Friday, and they livestream their meetings on their website. In fact, the fan club’s president is regularly corresponding with me. You gotta see her fan letters!”

The King disappeared and then reappeared with another envelope, which he handed to Falco via that singular slot. That envelope and the letter within smelled of expensive perfume.

Falco unfolded the letter and began to read: “‘_Dearest King Boo, Such an individual shouldn’t be locked up in a canister with minimal human contact. I believe that such brilliant minds need to spread their wings and thrive, sharing their creativity with the world. If I could, I’d break you out of there myself with my bare hands. Until then, I hope this letter makes your confinement easier. All my love, H.G._’”

“It’s always nice to have a fan,” said King Boo.

“Is this ‘H.G’ your fan club president?” asked Falco.

“She is.”

“Boy,” said Falco.

“Early in our correspondence, she sent me her picture,” said King Boo. “She’s quite beautiful.”

“I’d like a look at her, if you don’t mind,” said Falco.

“Ah, ah, ah,” said King Boo, wagging his appendage at the avian. “Her physical appearance is only between me and her. All you need to know at the moment is that she’s the most devoted of my relatively small fanbase.”

“Yeah, well—Luigi will always have a bigger fanbase,” boasted Falco. “These fanbases are run by men, women and even children who will gladly rally behind him. You know why? Because he’s a good man who puts others before himself and takes defeat in stride, and that’s more than I can say for _some_ people.”

“Oooh—all I hear is the pot calling the kettle black,” grinned King Boo.

“It was only one time,” said Falco. “It won’t happen again.”

King Boo and his brethren cackled in response.

“At least I’m not unhealthily obsessed with him!” Falco said hotly. “At least I don’t keep pictures of him shirtless!”

“‘Unhealthily obsessed’?” King Boo cackled some more.

“Seriously! Do you guys wanna [bleep] him or shove him into a painting?”

“Why not both?” a Boo chimed in.

This was met with another chorus of maniacal laughter.

“I can’t believe I’m even talking to you,” said Falco.

“Well, you are,” said King Boo, “and I trust that no word of our conversation will reach Luigi’s ears.”

Then, the Master of Illusions tilted his body to one side, and then the other, studying Falco intently.

“Now what are you doing?” asked Falco.

“Oh, nothing—except imagining you in a frame,” King Boo innocently replied. “Would you prefer a square shape or an oval shape? I’ve already picked a color for you—a nice turquoise.”

He leered at the avian, who once again unholstered his Blaster and leveled it at King Boo.

“You’re so merged with your own obsession,” spat Falco, “that you don’t even identify it as obsession anymore! You, sir, are a first-class psychopath!”

King Boo rolled his eyes. “For the second time, I’m not a psychopath—I’m a high-functioning _sociopath_. Take some time to get your narrow head around it.”

His Blaster steady in his hands, Falco backed up toward the exit. “You stay away from us,” he warned. “Do you hear me? Stay away from us!”

And then he was gone.

**1.1.1**

It was early afternoon in Mushroom Park. The meeting in Peach’s Castle had adjourned, all of the Toads going their separate ways to try and process what they’d just seen and heard. Some of the attendees had retreated to the park, to either clear their heads, go for a walk, or sightsee.

Amy was also in Mushroom Park, playing the part of the curious tourist as she took a stroll. She’d secretly listened in on the meeting and reported back to Rory and his friends. Mario had done nothing of interest yet, but Rory had cautioned his sister against lowering her guard. As the two Steves had seen, even a wholesome hero like Super Mario could be pushed too far.

The young woman paused at the large fountain and sat down to rest. She watched as a few parkgoers flew kites with Mario’s face on them. There were also kites shaped like Super Mushrooms and Power Stars—but she didn’t see a Luigi kite. Amy sighed. Luigi did half of the grunt work during a rescue mission, and yet Mario received all of the credit. Most of the Toads here barely knew his name. Thank God she and Rory didn’t have that problem.

The two of them had a few moments of sibling rivalry when they were kids, but it was never like the Mario Bros. It was more on the basis of “anything you can do, I can do better”, and it was more playful than mean-spirited. Whenever they quarreled, they usually talked it out a day or two later. Amy smiled at the memories of her and Rory sitting in the latter’s treehouse together, munching on snacks and watching TV. And whenever the family went to the park, Rory would always buy her ice cream and comfort her whenever she got sick on the swings. They’d play tag and hide-and-seek, and then they’d hide under the jungle gym and grumble about their parents. Later, when Rory left the nest and went off to college, the two siblings would exchange letters, which continued when Amy left for college. Even as adults, they stayed in touch, and now, they were working for Master Hand together.

Amy liked to think that she and Rory were the grounded, real-world equivalent of the Mario Bros. Would she throw herself in harm’s way to protect Rory? Absolutely—because he’d do the exact same for her.

She’d never understand why MH penalized Mario and Luigi for doing the same thing.

“It’s good weather for a stroll, isn’t it?”

Amy turned and looked at the old Toad who’d addressed her.

“Hello, Toadsworth,” she said.

“Hello,” Toadsworth replied.

“I agree with you—this is nice weather for the middle of October,” said Amy. “However, I read the weather reports, and they say that there’s a little storm coming.”

“A little rain does no harm,” said Toadsworth. “I take it you heard the news?”

“About Mario and those two guys? Yeah,” replied Amy.

“The good thing is that Mario was able to lay our worries to rest this morning,” smiled Toadsworth. “It turns out that those two men weren’t entirely innocent—and neither was Master Hand.”

Amy played dumb. “Really?”

“He said some cruel things that I won’t repeat,” Toadsworth went on. “I believe that some time away from him is what the doctor ordered.”

“Is Peach okay?” asked Amy.

“She’s fine—I’d say she’s feeling better,” smiled Toadsworth. “We all needed to go to that meeting to get some peace of mind. And in three days’ time, we’ll all go to another meeting where this nonsense will be explained once and for all.”

“Meeting?”

“Apparently, there was this huge plot to nerf Luigi in the Smash tournaments, and the people behind it have come to their senses and decided to confess en masse.”

“Good for them.”

“How about you?” Toadsworth suddenly asked. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah,” replied Amy. “This is actually my first time vacationing here. I hope to check out Peach’s Castle before I leave.”

“If you really want to experience the Mushroom Kingdom,” said Toadsworth, “then I’d recommend catching one of those ‘hop on, hop off’ tour buses. They’ll cover all of the top tourist attractions, and they offer both day and night tours. Of course, you can’t hop off during the latter.”

“Tour buses, huh?” smiled Amy.

“Sports and tourism make of the meat of our economy,” said Toadsworth.

“This may sound odd,” said Amy, “but I’d like to see Boo Woods one of these days. Not because I have a nightmare fetish, but because it’s where Luigi…”

“I know,” Toadsworth said quietly. “Some of us feel the same way.”

“I relate more to him than I do to Mario,” said Amy, “because I have an older sibling of my own, and I wanna fight for him as hard as he fought for me.”

“Would you get in trouble for him?”

“If I have to,” Amy said softly.

“Because Mario wound up in trouble with Master Hand for Luigi, and Luigi wound up in trouble with that glove for Mario,” said Toadsworth.

“Yeah,” said Amy. “They shouldn’t have been punished for that.”

“I’ve had time to think,” said Toadsworth, “and now I believe that they weren’t punished for defending each other. They were punished for breaking the rules.”

“No fighting unless it’s in a tournament match,” Amy said automatically.

Toadsworth blinked. “How do you know that?”

“Some friends of mine joined the tournament as Mii Fighters,” said Amy. “They called me once to grumble about that singular rule.”

“It’s a good rule,” said Toadsworth, “but I get why they’re upset. There was no other option but to fight—particularly in Luigi’s case. He walked in, saw his brother bleeding on the floor, cornered by four muscular men, and…” He spread his hands. “I hope the newspaper which ran that story realizes that they were fed a lie and prints a retraction.”

“Me, too,” said Amy, “and I also hope that Koopa doesn’t show up and ruin this perfect day.”

Toadsworth chuckled. “Yeah—that would be just what we need,” he said.

Amy rose. “All right—I’ll take your advice and try to catch a tour bus,” she said. “It was lovely talking with you.”

“Likewise.”

Amy and Toadsworth shook hands before going their separate ways.

**1.1.1**

One of the aforementioned tour buses seemed to glide down the street, passing the very park through which Amy strolled. An energetic tour guide spoke into a microphone, offering tidbits of history and trivia to the bus passengers as they sat in their chairs and enjoyed the view. At a traffic light, the bus turned left, heading uptown.

Vanessa sat in the bus’s upper deck, drinking in the vibrant kingdom as the wind weaved through her hair. Ethan sat next to her, with Theo and Anna seated in the opposite row. It had been an eventful few days for them as they caught a different tour bus touring different parts of the MK. They’d visited museums, monuments and national parks and dined at countless restaurants—and they even got to tour one of the tracks for the Mario Kart races. Some of the tour packages came with a few walking tours, which took them through several malls. However, the shopping would come later.

As a matter of fact, they were scheduled for another walking tour today—through Boo Woods.

When the family saw that walking tours through Boo Woods were being offered, they’d seen it as the hand of Providence. Perhaps by exploring the haunted locale, they could gain an insight into what Luigi was no doubt thinking and feeling during that night fourteen years ago. By putting themselves in his shoes, they—Ethan in particular—could learn to better understand the man in green.

The air around them cooled, and their surroundings became foggy as the bus cruised into Boo Woods. Everyone pulled on their jackets and watched with some trepidation as the trees around them grew barren and gnarly, the sun disappearing behind a wall of fog and clouds. The tour guide, however, remained as chipper as ever as she told the passengers about the little bedsheet ghosts that gave these woods their name.

“The Boos are very shy, so if you look them directly in the eye, then they’ll just cover their faces,” said the tour guide. “For those of you going on the walking tour, your stop is coming up. And here’s one piece of advice—if you don’t bother the Boos, then they won’t bother you.” She smiled as the tour bus rolled to a halt and Theo, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna joined a few other passengers in disembarking. “Have fun!”

Theo and his family watched the tour bus drive away before turning to their new tour guide—which just so happened to be a Boo.

“Welcome,” the Boo tour guide said with a grin. “My name’s Boonadette, and I’ll be walking you through these wonderful woods. If you have any questions, then don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Okay,” said the tour group.

“All right—let’s start the tour,” said Boonadette.

They floated off, and the tour group followed them.

One of Vanessa’s fellow tourists tapped her on the shoulder.

“I heard that the Princess is in town,” she said.

Vanessa’s breath caught. “She is?”

“Yeah. Someone published a false news story about Mario, and she spent all of this morning helping him clear the air.”

“My God,” Vanessa said softly. Here was her chance to confess her role in Project Nerf to Peach before it was sprung upon her at Chad’s meeting.

Boonadette continued to lead everyone through Boo Woods, the sun casting an eerie green glow through the fog. Scores upon scores of Boos hovered about, licking out their tongues at the tour group and waving to Boonadette. The Boo tour guide assured everyone that their brethren meant no harm, but there was a mischievous glint in their eye as they uttered those reassurances.

“Go ahead and take all the pictures and selfies you want,” said Boonadette. “Just be careful who you share those photos with. Our King is on Facebook, after all.” They cackled, and the other Boos cackled with them.

“You all know the story of our King, yes?” But since it was their job, Boonadette told them, anyway. “Nowadays, he stuck in a vault in a place called Evershade Valley, but fear not. A day will come when our King will rise again and take his well-earned revenge! But you didn’t hear that from me.”

More giggling.

The Boos followed Boonadette and their tour group deeper into Boo Woods, where the tourists gazed in wonder at the Boos’ very own “city”, consisting of derelict and/or abandoned houses. These were the “ghost houses” the Mario Bros often traversed en route to Koopa’s Castle.

“This city has existed since the time of TyBoo, our first King,” said Boonadette. “He was the one who unified all of the Boos under a single ruler. Did you know that our previous Kings ruled for over thousands of years? Our current King was crowned fairly recently—60 years ago, to be exact! We hope you’ll attend our JuBoolee later this month to commemorate the occasion. Unfortunately, our King won’t be able to attend due to his circumstances.”

After Boonadette told the tour group about the Boos’ previous Kings, they took everyone on a stroll through the city, pointing out galleries, eateries and other attractions of interest.

“You must be surprised that there are restaurants here,” quipped Boonadette, “seeing that we’re already dead.” This elicited a chuckle from the tour group.

Later in the tour, the group came upon a colossal, three-story mansion with an ornate fountain in the front yard. The mansion was painted green and white, with a big, green “L” emblazoned on the centermost rooftop arch.

“Hey!” Ethan exclaimed. “Is that…?”

Boonadette made a face. “Yes—that’s the mansion _he_ earned after trapping our King in a portrait,” they replied.

“Why would he put it here?” asked Theo.

“This is actually the site of the first trap we sprang for him and his brother,” said Boonadette. “That old geezer built this mansion after the illusion we conjured faded away. Rumor has it that he uses this place as a timeshare. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Since he lives here part-time, we can always sneak in and give him a little scare. But he’ll be ready for us with that infernal vacuum on his back! Plus, it’s not as fun without our King.”

Vanessa and her family exchanged looks.

“But—you didn’t hear that from me. On with the tour…”

As the tour continued, one of the Boos turned invisible and gently alighted themselves atop Ethan’s head. The teen only felt a brushing sensation and dismissed it as just the wind. But as Boonadette pointed out another landmark, the Boo suddenly dropped down in front of him, laughing and making Ethan jump.

Theo and Vanessa glared at the Boo as they stood protectively in front of their son. Anna, however, marched right up to the Boo, her fists clenched.

“Hey! You leave my brother alone!” she exclaimed.

Boonadette cackled. “So feisty,” they mused.

“Say that again,” giggled the Boo that had accosted Ethan. “You really love your big brother, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do!” Anna said vehemently.

“Do you know who you remind me of?” asked the Boo. “Luigi. He’s the younger of the two, but that night, he humiliated our King to save his beloved big brother.”

Ethan set his jaw as he took Anna’s hand, his eyes practically begging the Boo to approach his sis.

“We’d love to keep you here longer and entertain you with stories about our favorite man in green, but we unfortunately have a bit of a tight schedule,” said Boonadette. “There’s still a lot to see before your bus picks you up. However…” The Boo tour guide licked out their tongue. “…we’d give anything to see him again.”

The Boos’ cackles floated in the air as the tourists continued their guided trek through these haunted woods.

**1.1.1**

Evening had fallen over Evershade Valley, with most of the ghosts floating happily about, minding their own business. Falco and Luigi relaxed at the top of the Hollow Tree in the Haunted Towers, sharing a bag of chips. Seated beside them was the formerly Harsh Possessor, periodically reaching over to “borrow” a handful of potato chips.

The duo watched as a shooting star arced across the sky.

“Quick—make a wish,” said Falco.

Luigi closed his eyes for a minute, and then opened them. “Did you make a wish, too?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“And what did you wish for?”

Falco laughed. “You know I can’t tell you,” he said. “That’s bad luck.”

“Can you at least give me a hint?”

“No can do.”

A Slammer floated over, bearing several bottles of soda on ice.

“Thanks,” said Luigi as the Slammer placed the soda next to the chips.

Falco, Luigi and the Possessor each took a bottle of soda, opened it, and toasted before taking a sip.

“How come you’re getting chummy with King Boo?” asked Luigi.

“I’m not getting chummy with him,” said Falco. “I’m trying to gain his trust so he can divulge his plans to me—and then I can warn you.”

“You really think you’ll get him to open up?”

“I have to try,” said Falco. “I don’t want him hurting you again.”

“As long as he’s in that Vault, he can’t hurt anyone,” said Luigi.

“He escaped before,” sighed Falco. “Who’s to say he won’t do it again? I sneaked a look at the Professor’s remote control for the Vault, and there was a button for releasing Boos.”

“There was?”

Falco nodded.

“I know Professor Gadd is eccentric, but he’s not scatter-brained,” said Luigi. “I know he won’t push that button, and I know he won’t purposely put me in danger. It’s just—I want you to be careful. Chances are—he could turn your plan around on you. What has he told you so far?”

“The usual song-and-dance about how he hates your guts and wants you trapped in a painting along with everyone else,” replied Falco.

“Does he know about Smash?”

“He knows everything,” shuddered Falco. “He knew about the update patch, about what went down over these past few days, about the two Steves’ stunt. Believe it or not, he’s not happy about it.”

“Of course he isn’t,” said Luigi, “because in his warped mind, he’s the only one allowed to torment me.”

Falco decided to change the subject. “Have you talked to Mario again?” he asked.

“I did. The meeting this morning went off without a hitch,” said Luigi. “They’re all upset at MH, though, as is their prerogative.”

“Do you think you can forgive him?”

Luigi bit his lip. “Maybe,” he said finally.

“How about Mario?”

“Wha—how did you know…?”

“I kinda—heard you two exchanging words that night,” Falco explained.

“You were listening in on us?”

Falco dropped his head. “Yes.”

Luigi took another swig of soda.

“You haven’t forgiven him, have you?” asked Falco. “_Fully_ forgiven him?”

“No,” said Luigi. “I can’t believe someone I loved more than any material possession in the world would say something like that to me. Having words with MH doesn’t excuse him. At all.”

“But when Mario was in trouble…”

“At the end of the day, we’re brothers and protectors, and we can’t let our arguments divide us. I waited for him to cool off, and he cooked my favorite pasta for me, but…”

“A pasta dinner can’t erase the words,” said Falco.

Luigi shook his head.

“He met me halfway, just like you, and for that reason, I could let go of my anger and hear him out,” he said. “We reconciled, but I keep hearing those words. It’s like—_he_ said them.”

“That’s also why you came here,” Falco realized.

“I needed some time away from him, from MH, from the tournament,” said Luigi.

“From me,” Falco softly added.

“Well—it would’ve been nice, but—everything happens for a reason, you know?”

“Yeah,” said Falco.

“I’m gonna meet up with Mario and Peach in two days,” said Luigi, “and they want me to bring you along.”

“I’ll fly you over there,” offered Falco. “I know how much you dislike that Pixel—what do you call it?”

“Pixelshifter.”

“Right. Pixelshifter.” Falco munched on another handful of chips. “If I may, allow me to offer you one piece of advice.”

“Okay.”

“Once you have some free time—talk to him about it. Tell him how you really feel. He must be dealing with unresolved feelings about your exchange, too.”

“Practice what you preach, Falco.”

“I…”

“You haven’t talked to him since the day before my nerf,” said Luigi.

“He was willing to forgive me then, but now…”

“Can’t you at least take the chance? Because this is the second time I’m taking a chance with you.”

Falco heaved a sigh. “All right,” he said. “When I can, I’ll talk to Mario.”

“Thank you, Falco,” beamed Luigi. “That means a lot.”

The two exchanged a warm look.

Luigi’s phone broke the moment, notifying him of an incoming text message.

“Excuse me,” he said, pulling out the phone and checking the text.

His mouth dropped open, and the heat rose to his face. “Son of a…!”

“What? What happened?” asked Falco.

“Koopa,” snapped Luigi, his eyes flashing. “That turtle made a phone call to Crazy Hand the night before those four guys attacked my bro!”


	19. T Plus 18 Days

Koopa had decided to spend the night in his castle, also dropping in to visit the Bennigan Brothers. They’d told him about their talk with MH, and that the Hand of Creation had agreed to lessen their punishment and give Stu a second chance as a Smasher in exchange for them attending Chad’s meeting. In addition, Chad had contacted them with a private number, telling them to expect invitations on the following day containing details, directions and FAQs. The five of them ate dinner together, and then Koopa retired to his castle, turned on his TV to the PBS channel and went to sleep.

He woke up at 6a.m., showered and headed to his kitchen to make breakfast. Today’s choice was scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns, followed by two peach halves (of course) and some ice cold whole milk. Just as Koopa slid the last peach half into his mouth, his phone rang.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Good morning, Koopa,” Peach crisply greeted.

“Hey there, Peachy,” said Koopa. “I take it yesterday’s meeting went well?”

“Yes. Mario is back in my kingdom’s good graces.”

Koopa huffed. “Typical,” he muttered. Then, he smirked. “You don’t mind if I swing by the MK for a _visit_, do you?”

“Actually, I _do_ mind,” said Peach. “Mario and I have recently made quite an interesting discovery.”

“And what’s that?”

“The night before those four guys jumped Mario, you made a phone call to Crazy Hand,” said Peach.

Twin streams of milk shot out through Koopa’s nostrils. “I beg your pardon?”

“We found one outgoing call from your cell phone at a 24-hour diner not far from the Smash Mansion,” Peach went on, “and we traced it to Crazy Hand. We also have photos, videos and audio recordings of you at the meetings hosted by the Bennigan Brothers, in which you plotted to manipulate the suits at Nintendo to heavily nerf Luigi. And last month, multiple large deposits were made into your bank account.”

“About that phone call, I panicked, all right?” said Koopa. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. And I didn’t mean for the two Steves to target you.”

“You set in motion a chain of events that led to those four men cornering me,” Mario had taken the phone, and he was now speaking to Koopa in a disturbingly even tone. “Two of those four kept beating me when I was down and also hurled verbal abuse at me. You should consider yourself lucky that my bro intervened.”

“I’m sorry, Mario,” sighed Koopa.

“You’re going to be,” vowed Mario.

“Mario, I’ve got this handled,” Peach said gently as she took back the phone. “Now, Koopa, there’s something else you need to know. I’ve authorized the MKPD to attempt to locate Crazy Hand and the two Steves via GPS. They made the fateful mistake of leaving their phones on, and we’ve pinpointed them at a Best Western hotel 20 miles east of your castle.”

“Have you told Master Hand?” asked Koopa.

“I just did,” Peach replied with icy sweetness. “So let’s just cut the b.s., shall we? As soon as I hang up, I’m sending a ten-man team to the hotel, and I’m also sending Mario to your castle. They’ll arrive at their respective destinations in about half an hour, and CH and the two Steves will be taken into custody. I can even tell you how that will go, and how your month-long association with them will impact your relationship with MH—and with us.”

Koopa raised an eyebrow. “Or?” he prompted.

“Set a course for that Best Western on your airship and convince them to return peacefully,” said Peach. “You might be able to save not only them but also yourself. Thirty minutes—bring those three straight to the Smash Mansion, and I’ll tell everyone to turn around. Tick-tock.”

_Click_.

Koopa put his phone away and finished what remained of his breakfast. Then, he went over to his intercom and instructed his minions to get his airship ready.

**1.1.1**

Inside the Best Western hotel room, CH and the two Steves were chowing down on their breakfast when they heard what sounded like a jet.

“What the…?” frowned Stevie.

“Stay here,” said CH as he floated to the window and pushed aside the curtains. “Oh, my God…”

“What?” asked Steve.

“It’s Koopa’s airship,” gasped CH.

“Oh, great,” grumbled Steve. “Now _everybody’s_ coming to see us.”

Outside, Koopa guided his airship to a smooth landing in one of the parking spaces, disembarked and strode inside the lobby.

Meanwhile, the two Steves and CH hotly debated what to do.

“It’s not safe for us anymore,” said CH. “We need to get out of here.”

“Where can we hide?” asked Stevie. “MH has people on the lookout for us everywhere.”

Before they could discuss it further, Koopa rapped on the door.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

CH cursed under his breath as he went to the door and opened it.

“Make it quick,” he said bluntly.

“I intend to,” growled Koopa as he steamrolled into the hotel room, followed by several Koopa Troopas and Hammer Bros.

In no time flat, the two Steves found themselves grabbed by Koopa’s minions. The men kicked and struggled, but the Koopa Troopas and Hammer Bros had an iron grip.

“Hey, what’s all this?” barked CH.

“Please, have a seat,” Koopa said to him, and CH could tell by the tone of his voice that his “please” was far from a request. It was an order.

Petulantly, CH sank onto one of the beds.

“Going after Peach without so much as a f—ing warning—are you insane?” Koopa demanded of the trio. “She, along with Zelda and Link, wound up going to the hospital! You stabbed us all in the back and opened up a can of worms, and for what?”

“They were getting dangerously close to the truth!” protested CH.

“Yeah!” added Steve. “Those three eavesdropped on your conversation with Dorf and Wario! Stevie and I did you a f—ing favor that day!”

“By hurting three innocent people?” balked Koopa. “You can’t restrain yourselves. You never could. Well, now it’s over!”

“What are you talking about?” snapped Stevie.

“The MKPD will be at this hotel in less than 30 minutes to take you in,” said Koopa, “and Mario’s en route to my castle as we speak.”

“You gave us up to the Mushroom Kingdom,” spat CH. “You’re a spineless sellout.”

“You gave yourselves up,” Koopa said smartly. “Thanks to the GPS on your phones, they tracked you here. I’m giving you a chance to resolve this without violence or bloodshed. Because I know they’re going to be anything but nice when they arrive, seeing what you did to their Princess.”

“I don’t know about you,” said Stevie, “but I _do not_ wanna deal with Mario again.”

“So how about it?” asked Koopa. “Would you like to accompany me and my minions back to the Smash Mansion? Or do you want to wait for Peach’s angry constituents to show up?”

CH, Steve and Stevie exchanged a look. Then, they looked back at Koopa.

“You win,” CH sighed finally. “I’ll call my brother and tell him we’re coming back.”

Koopa grinned. “Wise decision.”

**1.1.1**

“Yes?” asked Peach when she answered her phone.

“I have them,” said Koopa. “We’re returning to the Smash Mansion now. Our bargain?”

Peach smiled sweetly. “Of course,” she said. “I’m recalling everyone now.”

“Thank you,” said Koopa. “Oh, and Peachy?”

“Yes?”

“Wish Mario a happy anniversary for me.”

“My God—it _is_ the 18th, isn’t it?”

“Yup. Those pesky plumbers have been kicking my [bleep] for 30 years!”

Peach laughed.

“All right. See you in two days.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

Koopa hung up and continued guiding his airship toward the Smash Mansion.

**1.1.1**

MH, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy, Rory, Lauren and Eden stood outside the Smash Mansion, watching Koopa’s airship approach. Slowly, the aircraft descended until it was half an inch above the ground. A ramp descended in front of the assembled group, and then Koopa emerged, flanked by his minions.

“Hello, Koopa,” said MH.

“Hello, Master Hand,” said Koopa. “They’re here—unharmed, I assure you.”

“Good,” smiled MH.

Koopa shook hands with the septet, and then he turned as several Hammer Bros escorted the two Steves down the ramp, followed by Crazy Hand.

“What shall we do with them?” asked one Hammer Bro.

“We’ll keep them in their rooms for now,” replied Eden. “Thank you—we’ll take it from here.”

The Hammer Bros turned the two Steves over to Remy and Rory, who marched them inside the Smash Mansion without a word of prelude.

Then, Crazy Hand made his way over to Master Hand, fingers clenched nervously. “Uh—hi…” he mumbled.

To his surprise, MH warmly embraced him.

“Welcome home, my dear Crazy Hand,” said MH. “Thank goodness you’re safe.”

“I—I don’t understand,” said CH. “I helped those two escape.”

“I know—and I forgive you.”

“You—do?”

“Absolutely,” beamed MH. “How can the two of us run a tournament if we’re holding grudges against each other, right?”

“Right,” laughed CH.

“Besides—no matter what crazy shenanigans you pull, you’ll always be my brother,” MH went on. “And there _had_ to be a reason you decided to help those two.”

“Well, now that you’ve mentioned it…”

“No matter,” MH broke in. “We’ll discuss it another time. For now, though—how about I take you to your favorite restaurant so we can catch up?”

CH smiled. “Sounds good to me!”

MH gave a secret wink to Eden, Lauren, Timmy and Jimmy as he and his twin floated off.

**1.1.1**

It was mid-morning in Evershade Valley. After going for a quick jog, Falco descended into his temporary workshop, senses still on high alert. His first action was to check the Boo Canister, where he saw the imprisoned Boos—and their King—on their laptops without a care in the world. Falco let out a breath and holstered his Blaster.

“Carry on,” he said.

After putting on some music, Falco set to work, doing regular maintenance on his Arwing. Any faulty gear he discovered was quickly replaced, and he cleaned the interior as well as the windows and exterior. Finally, he checked the craft’s tire pressure and changed the oil. By the time he was finished, he was covered in sweat and grease, but it didn’t matter as long as his Arwing was in working condition. The avian wiped his face and hands, spread out some blueprints and began sketching away. There was no time like the present to consider improvements.

At long last, Falco set down his pencil and reclined in his chair, exhausted.

“I’d better send these to Peppy as soon as I get back,” he mused.

He got up, washed his hands, grabbed a can of soda and turned off his music.

“Well, Falco, I certainly hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

Falco spun around.

King Boo was off his computer and now hovered at the Boo Canister’s window, glowering at Falco.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Falco crisply replied. “Flying with Star Fox has always been my passion.”

“I can see that,” said King Boo. “Do you want to know _my_ passion?”

“Uh—sealing people you don’t like in paintings?”

“Doing what Kings do,” King Boo icily replied. “Ruling.”

“Wow—someone’s in a mood today,” observed Falco.

“No [bleep], Sherlock,” snapped King Boo. “It’s the anniversary, you know.”

“The anniversary of the Mario Bros’ first rescue of Peach,” mused Falco. “The first time they beat up your friend and political ally. Is that why you’re so upset?”

“No,” said King Boo. “It was exactly fourteen years ago today, when I was first SHWEERRPP-SHLOOOORP-WHOOORPP-SHLEEEOOORG-ed into that vacuum!”

“Of course—of course,” said Falco. “Luigi was told he won the free mansion, but it turns out that it was a trap you engineered, and then you grabbed his brother, and he had to rescue him…”

“Don’t rub it in,” growled King Boo. “Fourteen years—fourteen years, and the humiliation just won’t go away. Then, twelve years after that, he did it again!”

“I—really can’t feel sorry for you,” said Falco. “You were the instigator, after all.”

“Was I? Those two have been happily prancing through my territory for years!” huffed King Boo.

“To rescue somebody,” Falco stated hotly. “To prevent anything bad from happening to her!”

“Yes—yes,” huffed King Boo. “Perfect f—ing Mario Bros, always doing the right thing. Well, look where that got me!”

“Let me get this straight,” said Falco. “Yesterday, you were making these creepy AF remarks about Luigi, and now you’re ranting about how he ruined your life. Could you—could you make up your mind, please?”

“Luigi _did_ ruin my life—and he just so happens to have an enviable physique!” exclaimed King Boo. “J—s, do I have to spell it for you?”

“No, you don’t. I see exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to paint yourself as the victim and doing a very poor job of it!”

“You’re just saying that because you were his friend,” charged King Boo.

“First of all, we’re attempting to reconcile. Second of all, you _are_ trying to paint yourself as the victim! Do you have any idea of the trauma you subjected Luigi to? Do you even care?”

“I’m telling you that those two started this whole mess!” bellowed King Boo.

“Well, fourteen years ago today, Luigi ended it!” Falco shot back. “And in 2013, he ended it again—hopefully for good!”

“Why does everything always have to be—_my fault_?!” roared King Boo, pounding a fist against the Canister’s window.

“Are you kidding me?” balked Falco. “Koopa handles his repeated defeats more gracefully than you! He doesn’t sit around stewing in hatred and feeling sorry for himself! He picks himself up and just—keeps—trying!”

“He’s never had to experience the ordeal of being sealed inside a portrait and then thrown into this containment unit, where your every action is monitored 24/7!” King Boo hotly retorted. “And I hope to God that he never will!”

“You are so _immersed_ in your own little world, that seeing Luigi suffer is the only thing that matters to you!” Falco accused. “You—are such—a d—k!”

Abruptly, King Boo slammed his entire body into the glass. Reflexively, Falco leaped back, drawing his Blaster and holding it on the Master of Illusions.

“Every day, I wake up and I hope he’s dead!” snarled the King, chilling the marrow in Falco’s bones. “Dead, like—if I can guarantee that my Boo brethren will be okay! I hope he gets an illness, and then gets hit by a car, and when he’s dragged his broken and bleeding body to the other side of the road, I hope he falls into a trash compactor and _dies_!”

Just as Falco was about to present a sarcastic comeback, he felt someone catch the sleeve of his flight jacket and yank him backwards.

King Boo grinned morbidly. “And here he is,” he sneered.

Luigi stood there, one hand flung out protectively in front of Falco and the other gripping the nozzle of his Poltergust. He spoke calmly to the avian in a low voice as he looked his mortal enemy squarely in the eye. “Falco. Put down your Blaster and get out of here. Now.”

“L—I’ve got this handled,” Falco said reassuringly.

“Not with that Blaster, you don’t. Now, go. Quickly.”

“I strongly suggest you do as he says,” King Boo said sweetly as his captured brethren gathered around him, cackling.

Luigi planted himself between King Boo and Falco, the latter beginning to heed his advice and back away toward the exit, Blaster still raised.

“I’ve got your back, buddy,” said Falco.

“That won’t do anything,” Luigi warned him, his gaze—and Poltergust—still trained on King Boo. “Run to the Gloomy Manor, and wait for me in the foyer.”

Unwillingly, the avian turned and fled. Luigi heard Falco’s retreating footsteps as he stared King Boo down. His other hand now grabbed hold of the nozzle, his pointer and middle fingers on the vacuum’s switch and his thumb poised over the red button that would activate the Strobulb.

King Boo licked his lips as he studied the man in green. “Happy anniversary, handsome,” he cooed. “I hoped I’d see you today—maybe do a little reminiscing.”

In response, Luigi tightened his grip on the Poltergust. A thousand scenarios were playing in his mind, scenarios of the King menacing Falco, stalking him and searching for the perfect opportunity to capture him as his personal plaything—scenarios that only he could prevent, regardless of what happened between him and the avian in the past. King Boo leered at him, and then he licked the glass separating them, but the man in green didn’t even flinch.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” said Luigi, still in that calm, clear and clipped voice. “Falco Lombardi is off limits.”

Keeping his trusty vacuum trained on King Boo, Luigi retreated toward the exit. And then he, too, left the Vault.

**1.1.1**

Luigi headed straightaway to the Gloomy Manor’s foyer, where he quickly located Falco.

Falco turned, and Luigi rapidly closed the distance between them, enveloping him in a hug. “Thank God you’re okay,” he said.

“He didn’t do anything to me,” Falco said softly. “Besides, I had everything under control.”

“What were you thinking, instigating him like that?” Luigi wanted to know.

“I wasn’t instigating him,” said Falco. “He was just in a bad mood because it’s the anniversary of his first defeat, and he took it out on me.”

“Next time he tries to engage you, just ignore him, okay?”

“I just figured that he probably needed someone to vent to, seeing that he’s cooped up in that Vault and all,” said Falco, “but okay.”

The two separated from the embrace and sat down at the edge of the fountain in the middle of the room.

“Thanks for the save, Luigi,” said Falco.

Luigi quirked an eyebrow. “Usually, you say something like ‘I guess I should be grateful’. What changed?”

“Recent events taught me to appreciate what I have before it’s gone,” explained Falco. “Plus, this is King Boo we’re talking about here. He’s more cunning and devious than Andross and Wolf combined.”

“Indeed,” said Luigi, “and your Blaster is useless against him and the other Boos. They can’t be subdued via conventional means. This,” He indicated the Poltergust, “is the only weapon that can stand up to their power. It’s the only thing they fear.”

“Well—some Smashers have come to fear it, too,” said Falco.

“I’m serious about this, Falco. If you really want to learn about ghosts and ghost-wrangling, then you need to learn about the Poltergust.”

“Would you—could you—teach me how to use it?” asked Falco.

“Of course,” replied Luigi, standing up, sliding off the Poltergust and holding it out to Falco.

Falco rose from his seat and took the Poltergust, and Luigi helped him slide the apparatus onto his back.

“It’s a little loose,” Falco remarked.

“Let’s tighten the straps,” said Luigi, and the two of them manipulated the leather straps until they rested comfortably over Falco’s shoulders. “Better?”

“Better.”

“Okay,” said Luigi. “The first thing you need to learn is how to hold the nozzle. I like to use both hands, especially when scuffling with a ghost, because it allows for better control.”

“I’ll probably wind up holding it a little differently,” said Falco, “because I have wings—not to mention I’m right-handed.”

“That’s okay—I’m ambidextrous,” said Luigi.

Falco picked up the nozzle and awaited the ghost-hunter’s instructions.

“See that little handle under the red button?” asked Luigi.

“Yeah.”

“Place your dominant hand—er, wing—there, if you please.”

Falco obliged, sliding his right wing beneath the handle and taking hold of the nozzle.

“Now place your other wing a few centimeters behind that handle.”

“All right,” said Falco, moving his left wing as instructed.

“Perfect. Nice, firm grip,” said Luigi. “If you find that uncomfortable, then you can always slide your left wing further toward you. And in the heat of battle, don’t be afraid to adjust your grip as needed.”

Falco nodded.

“Now, the second building block of using the Poltergust is posture,” said Luigi, stepping behind Falco. “If I may.”

“Go ahead,” said Falco.

Luigi’s hands slid over Falco’s. “Okeydokey. Could you bring the nozzle to just above your chest?”

Falco did so.

“Hmm—maybe a little higher. To just below shoulder height.”

“Okay,” said Falco.

“And—straighten your back?”

Falco dutifully straightened his posture, rolling his shoulders back. “How’s this?” he asked.

“Good, good. But stay relaxed. Standing there rigidly won’t help you capture ghosts.”

Falco allowed some of the tension to leave his body. He blushed as he felt his back press against Luigi’s chest.

“I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?” asked Luigi.

“No. Am I making _you_ uncomfortable?”

“Not really. No.”

“Thank God.”

“Wow, Falco, you’re really good at this,” said Luigi. “Now comes the fun part—handling the Poltergust.”

Falco drew a breath.

“First lesson—flash them with the bulbous end.”

Falco rolled his eyes. “I know which end to use.”

“Really? Can you tell me what the red button does?”

“It—flashes a light which stuns the ghosts,” said Falco.

“That light is called the Strobulb.”

“Strobulb. Of course.” Falco chuckled.

“Without pressing it, could you move your ‘thumb’ over that red button?”

“I sure can,” said Falco as he obliged.

“And the rest of your wing should be on the switch inside the handle,” said Luigi. “That controls the vacuum.”

“Got it.”

“There’s a third useful component to the Poltergust,” said Luigi. “Can you tell me what it is?”

“Uh—er—the Dark Light Device,” said Falco.

“Exactly,” said Luigi, “and there a little button next to the vacuum switch that activates it.”

Falco slid his wing a short distance away from the vacuum trigger and felt the button in question. “This?” he asked.

“Yup.”

Falco exhaled.

“Okay—you’re almost ready,” said Luigi.

“What do I need to do now?” asked Falco.

“I want you to press and hold the red button,” instructed Luigi. “Don’t release it until I tell you.”

The avian held down the red button, the Poltergust’s flashlight component coming to life with a hum that steadily rose in pitch.

Luigi watched as the Strobulb reached its maximum power, feeling the adrenaline rush that came with it.

“Now,” he softly commanded.

Falco released the button, the foyer lighting up in a brilliant flash and a loud ZZZAPPP!

“Whoa!” Falco exclaimed. “Totally wicked! Professor Gadd is one brilliant S.O.B.!”

“He is,” said Luigi. “Could you activate the vacuum for me?”

Falco pressed the trigger, the nozzle gently vibrating in his hands as air rushed into the vacuum. “D—n,” he said quietly. He released the trigger and turned his head, smiling at Luigi.

Luigi smiled back. “Do you ever wanna catch a ghost, Falco?” he asked.

“Me catching a ghost? Now _that_ would be a sight,” said Falco.

“Do you wanna know what it’s like catching a ghost?”

“It must be a nightmare for you,” said Falco.

“It was, at first,” said Luigi, “but no amusement park ride will induce the rush you get when this vacuum is tight in your hands, when a ghost is struggling against the swirling vortex of air and when your body is being dragged all over the room. That’s another thing. When you’re capturing ghosts, try to pull the vacuum opposite the direction you’re trying to go. If you can, try to balance yourself on your heels. Doing so will allow you to build up power and press the red button again to activate a Surge. The Surge has three levels, by the way.”

“Do you see yourself using this Poltergust again—outside of Smash?”

Luigi pursed his lips. “I want to say ‘no’, but—Fate has a way of dealing an unexpected hand,” he said. “Life will give me spaghetti sauce, so I’ll just make spaghetti.”

“Okay, well—do you see yourself using another Poltergust—a newer one? With better suction power and maybe some new tools at your disposal?”

“Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“_He_ doesn’t want me to tell you this—but he has a fan club that meets once a week,” said Falco. “These fans could be mortals—or they could be ghosts, like him. And by the looks of things, they’re rabidly devoted to him. Should you find yourself dealing with them, then a newer, better Poltergust might come in handy.”

“Thanks for the warning,” said Luigi.

“After what just happened with KB, I’d love to just—grab him by the tongue and just—slam him all over the place,” said Falco.

“Me too, Falco,” Luigi said quietly. “Me, too.”

**1.1.1**

“I should back by sunset,” said Vanessa as she emerged from a shower and a change of clothes. “There are lots of attractions near the hotel to keep the kids entertained.”

Theo nodded. “You’re really ready to do this?” he asked.

“Not really,” confessed Vanessa, “but it would be better if she heard it from me than if it was dropped on her in two days.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to come with you?”

“I think it should just be the two of us, woman-to-woman,” said Vanessa.

“We’ll be waiting outside, ready to catch you if things go awry,” smiled Theo.

“Aw—that’s sweet,” said Vanessa, “but Peach is usually slow to anger. I don’t think she’ll have a volatile reaction to the news I’ll give her.”

“But just in case, though,” said Theo.

“I know what you’re saying,” Vanessa said softly.

“Good luck, Nessa,” said Theo.

“Thanks—I’m gonna need it,” sighed Vanessa. “Kids—listen to your father.”

“Yes, Mom,” Ethan and Anna said in unison.

Vanessa slung her purse over her shoulder, kissed her husband and children goodbye-for-now and strode out of the hotel room with an air of purpose, taking the elevator down to the lobby and exiting into the October afternoon.

She didn’t have to wait long.

A pink-tinted limo pulled up onto the curb, and a passenger-side window rolled down to reveal Peach. “Hop in,” she said.

A valet opened the door for Vanessa, who climbed inside the limo and took a seat beside Peach, fastening her seatbelt. The valet closed the door after her, and the vehicle began to move.

As she settled back, Vanessa noticed that Peach was dressed down, wearing a simple, form-fitting cocktail dress and pink flats, her hair in a ponytail and minimal makeup on her face. The Mushroom Princess picked up a decanter of sparkling cranberry juice and poured it into two glasses, offering it to her fellow passenger.

“Yikes,” mused Vanessa as she accepted the glass. “This limo has everything.”

“True,” said Peach.

“But are you afraid of being too conspicuous?” asked Vanessa.

“Not really. Outside of Koopa, I can take care of myself,” Peach assured her. “Listen, I know a perfect place where we can have lunch together. Somewhere better than Waluigi’s Taco Stand.”

“Where?” asked Vanessa.

“Plank’s,” replied Peach. “They serve the best lunch around for a reasonable price. And there’s a DJ playing music.”

“Plank’s,” murmured Vanessa. “In Oakland, there’s a place called Plank. Is Plank’s similar?”

“You’ll see,” Peach told her.

Twenty minutes later, the limo arrived at the restaurant in question. Peach and Vanessa climbed out of the limo and walked inside, inhaling the welcoming scent of cooking food.

“Welcome to Plank’s!” the hostess said brightly. “Right this way, if you please.”

The two women were led to a booth by the window, and the hostess gave them a menu each. “Your server will be right with you,” she said before leaving the duo to their own devices.

“Fancy tea parties tend to wear on me after a while,” said Peach, “so whenever I need a more relaxed atmosphere, this is my go-to place.”

“It’s really nice,” conceded Vanessa.

“As you can see, it’s a restaurant where you can be you,” Peach went on. “The hostess didn’t even make a big deal out of me being a patron.”

“Maybe because you’re a regular, or…”

“It’s because they understand that I need a break from it once in a while,” said Peach. “On Tuesdays and Fridays, they’re especially careful when it comes to that. That’s when Koopa pays his regular visits, you know.”

Their server arrived to take their drink orders.

“We’ll have two waters and a bottle of Moscato,” said Peach.

“Coming right up,” the server said before withdrawing.

Vanessa and Peach then looked over their menus.

“Would you like to share an appetizer with me?” Vanessa asked finally.

“Sure—what looks good?”

“The Dippable Fries,” replied Vanessa. “They have Carne Asada Fries, Bacon and Cheddar Fries, BBQ Lovers Fries, Ham and Swiss Fries.”

Peach smiled. “You had me at ‘bacon and cheddar’!”

When the server reappeared with the drinks, the two women ordered the Bacon and Cheddar Dippable fries, with Sweet BBQ as their choice of dipping sauce. With a smile, the server departed again to put their orders in.

“I could use food like this,” said Peach once the ladies were chowing down on their fries. “You have no idea what’s happened to me over this past week—and shortly after getting rescued, too!”

“I heard a little bit about it on the news,” said Vanessa.

“And not only that—the cowards ran for it!” sniped Peach. “Not only did they want revenge for what Mario did, but they also acted on Crazy Hand’s orders.”

“Why would Crazy Hand want to…?”

“Zelda, Link and I were venturing close to the truth behind the update patch, and CH wanted to discourage us,” explained Peach. “Not only that—remember those four guys who cornered Mario and would’ve crushed his spirit if Luigi hadn’t shown up?”

“What about them?”

“Turns out, CH sent them, and he found out that I was able to warn Mario.”

“Where are they now?” hissed Vanessa, referring to Crazy Hand and the two Steves.

“Earlier this morning, I played some hardball with Koopa,” grinned Peach. “He made a phone call to CH the night before Mario’s run-in with that quartet. I _persuaded_ him to track those three down to the hotel where they were hiding and convince them to give themselves up.”

Vanessa was still hot. “I’m gonna…”

Peach laid a hand over hers, quieting the redhead. “What’s coming for them is worse than anything you can dream up,” she said.

“And what’s that?”

“You’ll see,” winked Peach. “But—enough talk about that.”

“I agree,” said Vanessa.

“So—you and your family have decided to vacation here?”

“We have.”

“You couldn’t have come at a better time,” smiled Peach. “The weather’s pretty mild, and we have our Fall Festival and Halloween Bash coming up.”

“Wait a minute—today’s the 18th,” said Vanessa. “Thirty years ago today, the Mario Bros rescued you for the first time.”

“Thirty years and counting,” said Peach.

“Don’t you usually hold a party or something?”

“We do, but we’ve decided to move it to tomorrow,” explained Peach. “That’s when Luigi’s gonna meet up with us. We’ll all spend tomorrow night in my castle, and then we’ll head straight to the meeting. I shouldn’t tell you this, but—Chad’s holding it in Sarasaland.”

“Sarasaland? The empire whose ruler is dating Luigi?”

“I’m surprised, too,” said Peach, “but Daisy’s normally a forgiving soul, like me.”

“Are you going?”

“You bet! I think I deserve to know if there’s a plot against one of my kingdom’s protectors!” In a softer voice, Peach continued, “It’s open to the public, but closed to the press, so if you want to come, too…”

“I’ll talk it over with Theo and the kids,” said Vanessa.

“What about the celebration tomorrow? Are you coming?”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” grinned Vanessa.

“So—what have you been up to here in the MK?” asked Peach.

“Relaxing on tour buses, enjoying the view and eating good food,” replied Vanessa. “We even toured Boo Woods yesterday.”

“And?”

“The Boos were doing their usual thing. But when one of them got in Ethan’s face, you should’ve seen Anna. She wouldn’t have any of that at all!”

“What did she do?” asked Peach.

“She told that Boo to leave her brother alone!” Vanessa proudly recounted.

Peach laughed heartily. “Atta girl!”

“Say that again,” said Vanessa.

“I’m so happy that the two of them are getting along nowadays,” said Peach.

“That makes two of us,” said Vanessa, “but in the worst of times, Ethan and Anna will look out for each other—as those Boos certainly found out yesterday afternoon. Have I mentioned that Ethan wants to be more like Mario?”

“Then I suppose Anna will want to model herself off of Luigi,” mused Peach. “She stood up to a Boo to protect Ethan.”

“Well—I don’t see her strapping a ghost vacuum onto her back, but—yeah. She and Ethan are getting closer by the day.”

The two shared a laugh.

A little later, a DJ began spinning party tunes. Peach and Vanessa also saw the DJ set out a sign-up sheet for a dance contest. Their eyes met, instantly getting the same idea, and then they walked over to the sign-up sheet and put down their names.

“Do you enter their contests often?” asked Vanessa.

“Not really,” said Peach. “Despite the low-key atmosphere, I don’t wanna take any chances and draw too much attention. But today—I’m willing to make an exception.”

“I don’t mean to be a braggart,” said Vanessa, “but I can totally cut a rug and give us an edge in this contest. But like I keep telling Anna and Ethan—it’s never about winning or losing.”

“Do you _want_ to win?” asked Peach.

“Well—winning would feel good,” conceded Vanessa, “but I just wouldn’t try too hard.”

“I see your point,” said Peach. “If only the Smashers who got on Luigi’s case nonstop about him always beating them had seen it, too.”

They finished their fries and sipped on some more wine before it was time for the contest to begin.

“Tell you what,” said Peach. “Let me do my best to help you bring that trophy home to Theo and the kids.”

“Okay,” said Vanessa.

The ladies joined the other contestants in lining up around the dance floor, the DJ calling out their names at random. The songs for each contestant or group of contestants would also be randomly chosen. As the contest commenced, the restaurant’s other patrons watched the action as they ate, cheering everyone on and clapping in time to the music.

Finally, it was Vanessa and Peach’s turn.

“Ready?” asked Peach.

“Let’s do this,” said Vanessa.

They took off their shoes and strode onto the middle of the dance floor. As “Shake it Off” began to play, the two women began to dance, twirling each other like expert ballroom performers and twisting and shimmying like they were at a diner in the 1950s, moving in perfect synch. Everyone looked taken aback, and with good reason. Who knew that their Princess could dance like that?

Vanessa laughed, Peach laughing with her. They’d never had so much fun. Not when Vanessa was playing board games with Theo, Anna and Ethan on family night and not when Peach was competing in her numerous sporting events. Here at Plank’s, they were just two women, two friends, decompressing after a few stressful days.

They finished their dance to uproarious applause from the crowd. The masses had spoken—Peach and Vanessa had won first prize.

“Told ya,” winked Peach as the two of them carried the trophy to the limo once they’d paid for their meal.

**1.1.1**

From Plank’s, Peach and Vanessa went to the Mushroom Mall, where much shopping ensued. Lots and lots and lots of shopping. Dashing between the dresses lined up on the racks and the fitting rooms, weaving among the shelves of heels, flats, sandals and sneakers until they found the right style. Trying on fragrances, eye shadows, foundations, lipsticks, glosses, blushes, eyeliners and lipliners. Treating themselves to mani-pedis and facials at the spa before soaking off the tension in a Jacuzzi or letting the negative vibes melt away in the steam room. Sampling chocolates at See’s Candies, and then sampling wines at numerous wineries. Vanessa even got to test-drive a kart! They eventually wound up at an FAO Schwarz, taking the elevator up to the third floor where the famous piano mat awaited.

Once again barefoot, Peach and Vanessa stood in line, and when their turn came, the two of them hopped on the piano mat and played a duet together. It was a tune they both knew all too well, the tune that started the very first level of the very first _Super Mario Bros_! While it was a simple tune on a normal piano, it was rather complex on FAO Schwarz’s piano mat! Shoppers and employees alike were thrilled by this lovely trip through time, some of them recording the two women on their camera phones.

The ladies had time to play a few bars of the castle theme from _Super Mario 64_ before it was time to yield the piano mat to the next shopper. Breathlessly, Vanessa and Peach exited the store, exchanging huge smiles as they strode toward the limo.

Vanessa checked her watch—it was getting late. She needed to head back to the hotel, so that she and her brood could get ready for dinner.

“Shall we return to your home away from home?” asked Peach.

“Please,” said Vanessa.

The moment Vanessa dreaded fast approached as she and Peach piled into the limo and fastened their seatbelts, drinking water and pineapple juice as they gazed silently out the window. Since there was little to no congestion, they arrived at the hotel sooner than Vanessa hoped.

“I really enjoyed our outing,” said Peach as the limo rolled to a stop.

“So did I,” said Vanessa. “Thanks for the lunch and a pleasant afternoon.”

“We should meet up more often,” said Peach.

Vanessa nodded, steeling herself.

“Is—something wrong?”

Vanessa took a deep breath and said a silent prayer for strength.

“Before I go,” she said, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Okay,” said Peach.

“It’s something—really bad,” Vanessa regretfully went on, “and it concerns Luigi.”

Peach intently leaned forward. “Please, tell me,” she said. “I won’t bite—that hard.”

_Here goes nothing,_ said Vanessa.

And then she told the Princess everything.

**1.1.1**

As promised, Theo and the kids waited for Vanessa in the lobby, watching the limo as it sat there for what felt like a long time. When Vanessa at last emerged, bearing shopping bags and a trophy, the trio rushed out to greet her.

A glum expression was on Vanessa’s face, tears worrying at her eyes. Her gaze was downcast, and her head was slightly bowed as she strode toward the entrance. Theo met her, hand-in-hand with the children, zeroing in at once on her saddened state.

“Hey,” he said, concerned. “How’d it go?”

“As well as I expected,” Vanessa dejectedly replied.

Theo offered to help his wife with her bags, and then his eyes fell on the trophy.

Vanessa smiled wanly. “I’ll tell you about it later,” she promised.

“Vanessa, wait!”

The family watched as Peach hopped out of the limo and ran over to them.

“I’ll take everything upstairs, shall I?” said Theo.

“Thanks,” Vanessa said quietly, her eyes still on Peach.

A flustered look was on Peach’s face. “I really don’t know what to think right now,” she said.

“All I have to say is that I’m sorry,” said Vanessa. “There are no excuses for what I did and what my family did. But all I could think about was Ethan and his behavior and that maybe…”

Gently, Peach shushed her. “When you told me that you were a fan of mine, you weren’t lying,” she said. “Our friendship—that wasn’t a lie.”

“No,” said Vanessa.

“It wasn’t a question,” said Peach. “I know that you really like me, and that you really like Mario and enjoy playing his games.”

“Before Project Nerf, Ethan would get really frustrated trying to fight a Luigi main,” said Vanessa. “Then, he was acting out and getting suspended from school—all I could think was that if Project Nerf would somehow help him channel his frustration, the maybe I could repair my relationship with him. I’m not justifying this. I just want you to understand.”

“During our first lunch date, you told me a little about Ethan,” said Peach, “and there was the time he went off on Mario after he lost to Luigi. You and Theo just went along with it because—you were protecting your son. Right?”

“Right.”

“And Anna—she’s just a kid. But what gets me more than the fact that you partook in this is—why did you cave in to your son? Why did you coddle him instead of discipline him?”

“I guess—Theo and I wanted to skirt responsibility. We tried to help Ethan improve against Luigi. I even fought a few matches as Luigi. But nothing would seem to work; Ethan would rage quit and even take it out on Anna.”

“And you blamed Luigi for that.”

“Yes.”

“Vanessa—I know you thought you were trying to help Ethan, but you weren’t. You and Theo were teaching him—along with Anna—that the solution to their problems was to angrily rail at people until they did something about it, rather than trying to solve their problems themselves.”

“I know,” said Vanessa. “Can you ever forgive us?”

“You told me that Ethan’s behavior has improved since his blowup with Mario,” said Peach.

“Yeah. He wants to make it up to him.”

“I see genuine remorse in your eyes,” Peach went on. “When Koopa grabbed me, you and your family communicated with me to make sure I was okay. Despite your issue with Luigi’s combos, you hoped that he’d help Mario save me.”

Vanessa nodded.

“Come to the meeting in Sarasaland,” said Peach. “Tell me everything. Tell _them_ everything.”

“I wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t be blindsided,” explained Vanessa.

“You made the right decision,” said Peach.

“Do you hate me?”

“I hate what you did—but not you. I could never hate you. You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

“Peach—I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

“Come to the meeting,” Peach softly commanded. “We’ll build our way up from there.”

She leaned forward and softly kissed Vanessa on the cheek.

“See you in two days?”

“Absolutely.”

Vanessa watched as Peach glided back inside her limo, waving as it drove off. Then, she turned and walked into the hotel room, a feeling of peace beginning to wash over her.

**1.1.1**

A small celebration of sorts was happening in Evershade Valley. Gadd, Luigi and Falco were in the Gloomy Manor’s foyer, joined by the valley’s ghosts, enjoying pizza, cake and fruit punch. For on this day fourteen years ago, Luigi confronted his fears for the first time. It was a negative memory for King Boo, but a positive one for the man in green.

“This just came in the mail,” said Gadd, handing Luigi a manila envelope.

Luigi opened the envelope and smiled as he took out the homemade get-well card. “It’s from the Smashers,” he mused.

Both sides of the card were covered top to bottom with encouraging messages and signatures. Even Chad, Charlie and Daisy had signed it when it made a stop in Sarasaland. Happy tears sparkled in Luigi’s eyes as he read each message. Then, he kissed two of his fingers before placing them over Mario’s message and signature.

“It was very nice of the Smashers to send you a card,” said Falco, “but I think it’s missing something.” He took out a pen of his own. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Luigi handed the card to Falco, who found a blank space on the paper to sign his name. Professor Gadd also signed the card, as well.

“Now it’s finished,” said the elderly scientist.

“Even those who yelled at MH over your combos pitched in,” observed Falco. “If that isn’t a sign of remorse, then what is?”

“You think MH persuaded them?” asked Luigi.

“Not at all.”

“I’ll make sure to thank them when I get back,” said Luigi, pocketing the card.

“All righty,” said Gadd. “What do you say to a toast?”

“Sure,” said Falco.

“I’m up for a toast,” said Luigi.

Gadd exited the foyer, walking back in a minute or so later with a bottle of sparkling grape juice and a stack of cups. He lined up the cups in neat rows on the table before opening the bottle and carefully filling each cup until it was three-quarters full.

Eagerly, the ghosts crowded around the table, waiting for Gadd to finish. Once the bottle was empty, they all settled back as the scientist began handing out cups of the sparkling beverage to everyone. Once the crowd of ghosts had lessened, Gadd made his way over to Luigi and Falco.

Once everyone held a cup, Gadd stood in the center of the foyer. “The time has come to take a moment and honor a man who, sorry to say, isn’t quite honored enough. A man who, while flawed, won’t let those flaws stop him from doing the right thing. I can’t say this enough—I’m honored to have met him and helped him tap into and embrace his hidden bravery. May his actions on that autumn night in 2001 remain inscribed upon the pages of our history.” He raised his glass. “To Luigi.”

“To Luigi,” said Falco, also raising his glass.

The ghosts also raised their glasses, cheering.

“Thank you,” said Luigi. “Remembering that night is bittersweet for me, and it will always be bittersweet. But I’d like to think that the sweet outweighs the bitter. I met an eccentric friend and learned a skill that I eventually discovered I was pretty good at. Most of all—if that night hadn’t happened, then I’d still be reined in by my fears. Here’s to you, Professor Gadd, for saving my life, arming me and giving me the strength I needed to help my bro. And here’s to King Boo—for making me that much stronger.”

“Cheers,” said Gadd and Falco, and then everyone drank their sparkling grape juice.

“Let’s have some more cake,” said Luigi, and everyone wholeheartedly agreed.

Generous slices of the cake were levered out onto plates. Just as Luigi received a slice, his phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it.

He knew who it was.

“Happy anniversary, Bro!” Mario said brightly when Luigi picked up.

“Thanks, Mario,” said Luigi. “Sorry I couldn’t make it to the party.”

“No worries—we’re holding it tomorrow,” said Mario, “and besides, that wasn’t the anniversary I was talking about. I’m referring to the more important anniversary.”

Luigi’s heart swelled. “Bro…”

“I could never forget that moment,” Mario said softly. “Even after fourteen years. And—I know there’s a lot going on lately, but recent events won’t stop me from recalling the second you marched into that Secret Altar.”

Luigi closed his eyes and pictured the scene as Mario spoke.

“You were standing there—framed by the glow of the candles burning around us and the lights from the chandelier on the ceiling, you looked just like an angel—_my_ angel. And you were looking at me—even as _he_ was talking this garbage about you falling for his trap, your eyes were always on me. I was so happy to see you…”

“And I was so happy to see _you_,” said Luigi.

“I was worried for you because you were already bruised and bandaged, and on every bruise and bandage was a story of the battles you had to fight to get to that point,” Mario went on. “Then, you took an even worse beating to get me out of there. I saw him in his mech, belching fire at you, slashing at you and rolling those heavy iron balls toward you—punching you, swatting at you and tossing and slamming you all over the arena, but you kept on fighting. You were bleeding all over yourself, but you kept on fighting. All I could concentrate on was your face.”

“Ditto,” whispered Luigi. “But I never got around to asking—how did you know it was a mech? Did you see him get into it?”

“No. I just knew. And I didn’t want you to panic.”

“I didn’t. It would’ve made the situation worse.”

“If you wanted to leave me hanging on that wall, then I would’ve understood,” said Mario.

“Wh—why would I do that?” asked Luigi.

“Sometimes, I take you for granted,” Mario explained. “When I was in your arms in that lab, I took the time to appreciate how _good_ it felt. I don’t think I tell you ‘I love you’ enough. And sometimes, I can be a b—d. I left you behind in at least five of my adventures, I get flustered whenever you best me in a sporting event or a Smash battle, I stepped on your foot after that Power Tennis tournament, I verbally tore you apart after MH suspended me. And yet you risk your life and your safety for me. You took on those four men for me and you were willing to endure Koopa torturing you for me…”

“Mario, I…”

“And then I think back on that night and I want to know—why?”

“Because—you grew next to me in our _mamma_’s belly. Because you defended me as many times as I defended you. Because I look up to you and I love you and…” Luigi’s voice broke.

“The 18th of October has become an emotional day for me since the mansion,” sniffled Mario.

“For me, too,” said Luigi.

“I know you’re still thinking about what I said and—I’m so sorry! I don’t know what else to say!” Mario let out a sob, which made Luigi sob. “I was foolish and selfish and p—ed off, and I took it out on you!”

“As much as your words hurt, butting heads makes the MK vulnerable to attack,” said Luigi. “The next day, I knew I had to swallow my pride and talk to you, but…”

“You don’t have to say anymore, Bro,” said Mario. “You—you haven’t been around _him_, have you?”

“I tried to stay away, but I overheard him ranting, wishing I was dead,” said Luigi. “I rushed in there and saw him with his face pressed against the glass, snarling at Falco. And I just—acted. He hurt me, but that doesn’t mean I want that psycho near him.”

“Me, neither.”

“I needed to look him in the face and tell him that he wasn’t bothering any more of my friends.”

“Is Falco okay?”

“The experience shook him up a little, but he’s fine.”

“Despite Falco’s arrival, I hope you’ve found peace,” said Mario.

“I have,” said Luigi. “I’m ready to join you and Peach tomorrow, and to hear everyone out at the meeting the day after that.”

“Me, too,” said Mario.

“Nothing can tear us down, Mario,” said Luigi. “Remember that.”

“I will. Lil’ Bro—I knew I had to call you today.”

“And I’m glad you did,” said Luigi. “_A domani_, Mario.”

“_A domani_.”

Luigi hung up, composed himself and rejoined Falco, Gadd and the ghosts in the foyer.

**1.1.1**

Once the small party had wound down, Falco and Luigi relaxed on the terrace of the Treacherous Mansion, staring up at the Dark Moon shining brightly in the sky.

“Falco,” said Luigi.

“Yeah?”

“Is there anything you’d like to tell me before you come up and speak at the meeting? Anything I should know?”

“All I have to say is that—I let my frustration spiral out of control, and I made some rash decisions as a result,” said Falco.

“Such as…?”

“Initiating contact with the Bennigan Brothers and meeting with Mr. Sakurai. And attending the Project Nerf meetings.”

“Did you really want me nerfed?”

“Yes.”

“Did you hate me because of my combos?”

“Well—not in so many words…”

“You sure sounded like you hated me,” said Luigi.

“It was in the heat of the moment. I don’t hate you, Luigi.”

“Then why do I feel like you do? We were friends, and then you…”

“I promise,” said Falco, “at the meeting, I’ll straighten things out, once and for all.”

“Like it’ll automatically make things okay.”

“It’ll make them better,” Falco said softly. “We’ll have no more lies and no more secrets.”

“I just want to be ready,” said Luigi. “Ready for whatever sordid facts will come out two days from now. And I don’t know how I’ll react to them.”

“Whatever we confess,” said Falco, “just know that we’re confessing because we _want_ to. Not because someone is forcing us into it.”

“Yes, well—don’t expect me to magically forgive you,” said Luigi.

“Of course not.”

Luigi crossed his hands behind his head. “On a more personal note,” he said, “I’m glad you showed up here in the valley.”

“See? Having me around wasn’t so bad,” quipped Falco.

“No,” said Luigi. “It wasn’t.”

Cautiously, Falco reached out his wing.

Slowly, Luigi took it.

And the estranged pair exchanged a warm smile.


	20. T Plus 19 Days

Thanks to the unflappable, quick-witted Jeff, word of Chad’s meeting reached the Smash Mansion without Crazy Hand, Steve and Stevie finding out. Those who wanted to participate received hand-written invitations detailing the what, the when and the where. They were informed that Chad had pulled strings to hold the meeting at the Sarasaland Convention Hall, which would begin at 9a.m. Enclosed with the invites were vouchers for the numerous hotels scattered around the venue. Instantly, the remorseful conspirators began packing their suitcases for a two-night stay in Sarasaland. MH consulted with Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory before calling a secret meeting with the Smashers of interest.

“The MK is celebrating the 30th anniversary of Peach’s first rescue today,” he said. “We can meet up with her and the Mario Bros there, and we’ll all catch a flight to Sarasaland after the festivities.”

This suggestion was unanimously approved.

MH then called Peach to pass on the news.

“I don’t know how they’ll react to seeing me again,” the Hand of Creation said truthfully.

Peach just smiled. “These past few days have given them time to think,” she said. “Besides, they don’t hold grudges—at least, not for very long.”

“Just—tell them I’m heading over later today,” said MH. “I don’t want them surprised on such a special day.”

“I will.”

“Great. See you later. And Princess…?”

“Yeah?”

“Most of the Smashers who may or may not have conspired to have Luigi’s down throw nerfed are coming with me, too.”

A brief pause. “I’ll let them know.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll see you soon.”

MH hung up and let out a breath. Then, he turned to the four Miis.

“I expect you all to behave accordingly,” he said to them. “This anniversary is taken quite seriously in the Mushroom Kingdom.”

“Yes, Master Hand,” the four men said in unison.

“Good,” said MH.

It was time to get ready.

**1.1.1**

“It was lovely seeing you,” said Professor Gadd as he helped Luigi pack the last of his things.

“Ditto,” said Luigi. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”

“I hope things with Mario and Master Hand work out,” said Gadd, “and with Falco, as well.”

“I’m positive they will,” said Luigi. “Our stay has helped me rediscover why I befriended him in the first place.”

“Did you really teach him how to use the Poltergust?”

“I did,” smiled Luigi. “I’d rather he have that knowledge, just in case I’m incapacitated, or…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish.

Gadd handed the aforementioned ghost vacuum, freshly cleaned and oiled, to his young friend. “I know,” he said.

“Speaking of which, what is he up to?” asked Luigi.

Well, Falco was down in the Vault, also packing up. All of his schematics were neatly folded, the snacks sealed in food-safe bags and the drinks neatly arranged in a cooler. His Arwing sat outside, fueled and ready to go. As Falco worked, he was conscious of the Boos’ eyes on him.

“Hey—listen, Falco…”

Falco turned and met King Boo’s gaze. “Yeah?”

“About what happened yesterday—I’m really sorry,” said King Boo. “I was just—in a mood. You see, every October 18th brings back memories of Luigi overwhelming me for the first time and…”

“You don’t need to explain to me,” Falco said as he resumed packing.

“I just don’t want us to part on bad terms, all right?” huffed King Boo.

“You honestly think we’ll be friends after the display I witnessed?” asked Falco. “You made it clear that you’re obsessed with Luigi, and that you won’t stop until he and his friends are either dead or sealed in a painting. As one of his friends, I don’t think we’ll be on good terms.”

“We don’t have to be friends,” King Boo said craftily, “but we don’t necessarily have to hate each other.”

“I don’t hate you,” Falco said after a beat. “I _dread_ you—because I know what you’re capable of.”

“Seems fair,” mused King Boo.

The Master of Illusions scribbled something on his notepad and handed it to Falco. “Here’s my phone number,” he said quietly.

“Thanks,” said Falco as he hesitantly took the paper. “Maybe having someone to talk to will provide a much-needed distraction from your grudge match.”

“I highly encourage you to look around my fan club,” King Boo went on. “You’ll never know the quirky characters you could meet.”

“I can’t do that to Luigi,” said Falco. “We’ve just about figured things out. But thanks for the offer.”

King Boo blinked. “Whoever said it was an offer?” he asked.

Falco cleared his throat. “Stay out of trouble, all right?”

King Boo rolled his eyes. “What are you, my mom?” he snickered. “Besides, I make no promises.”

Falco checked his Blaster and made sure the safety was on before slipping it into his holster. “Despite everything, I’m glad that I met you,” he said. “You made me realize that Luigi’s an important person in my life. And for that, I should at least thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” grinned King Boo.

“Well,” said Falco as he picked up his suitcases. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“Yeah—guess so,” King Boo said solemnly.

He stuck an appendage through the Canister’s opening, and Falco closed a wing over it.

“Just—don’t do anything stupid,” sighed Falco. “That’s all I ask of you.”

King Boo and his brethren quietly watched as Falco turned on his heel and left.

**1.1.1**

Falco joined Luigi, Gadd and Polterpup outside, where his Arwing waited.

“You guys ready?” he asked.

“Ready,” said Luigi as Polterpup woofed in anticipation.

They looked up as the ghosts flew over, saddened expressions on their faces.

“You know,” said Falco, “maybe we should make this a monthly occurrence.”

“I’d like that,” Gadd said brightly.

“You know—that’s a thought,” added Luigi.

All of the ghosts took turns hugging Luigi and Falco goodbye (for now). Then, Gadd took out four coffee cans and handed two each to his departing guests.

“This is the Lunoman Greenie coffee blend,” explained Gadd. “It’s a blend exclusive to Evershade Valley and my newest favorite beverage. Trust me—it’ll pick you up before a day full of tournament matches.”

“Thank you, Professor,” said Luigi.

“Yeah, thanks,” said Falco.

“Wait—the anniversary party is today,” said Luigi. “You don’t wanna come?”

“I wish I could—but your visit has my creative juices flowing,” said Gadd.

“I understand,” said Luigi.

“Particularly your comment about ‘slamming ghosts’,” Gadd went on, “and since plumbing is your main occupation, and plumbers use _plungers_…” His eyes widened. “You—you had lots of ghosts ganging up on you last time, right?”

“Right.”

“Then, I guess you need some defensive tools, as well as tools for crowd control,” said Gadd. “Maybe if you had some _help_…” His eyes lit up behind his glasses. “I’d better head back to the Lab and get this idea on paper, posthaste!”

He pulled Falco and Luigi in for a group hug. “Have fun, you two!” he exclaimed before dashing toward the Gloomy Manor.

Luigi chuckled. “See ya, Professor,” he said.

Then, he turned to Falco. “We gotta head over to the MK before the celebration starts,” he said.

Falco nodded. “Let’s roll.”

The two of them hopped into the Arwing, the avian in the pilot’s seat and the plumber in the co-pilot’s seat. Falco handed his companion a flight jacket, which he slid on.

“Remember what I taught you?” he asked.

“I do,” said Luigi.

Falco started the engine, and together, he and Luigi guided the Arwing into the sky.

**1.1.1**

“Remember what I said about talking to him,” said Luigi as he and Falco neared the MK.

“Yup,” said Falco. “Will he be more willing to listen to me before the meeting or after?”

“That’s entirely up to you,” said Luigi.

“There’s still a lot between the two of you that needs to be cleared up before the meeting, however,” said Falco.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject,” said Falco. “The two of you need to face this together.”

Luigi said nothing.

“If you talk to him,” said Falco, “then I’ll talk to him. Deal?”

“Deal,” replied Luigi.

They approached the airport, where the two of them requested and received permission to land. Together, they glided the Arwing to a smooth landing, and then they taxied the aircraft to the terminal. One of the employees agreed to store the Arwing in the hangar during Falco’s stay.

“You’re getting really good at this flying thing,” said Falco.

Luigi nodded before taking out his cell phone and sending Mario a few texts.

“Okay—he and Peach are already in Mushroom Park,” he said after a while. “We gotta head over there.”

They called a Lyft, which dropped them off at the northeast side of the park. Striding across the grassy lawn, they observed Toads setting up for the festivities. Luigi told Falco a little bit about the schedule as they walked.

“They start things off with a reenactment of our first rescue mission,” he said. “Then, they give speeches. Most of the day consists of live music, DJs, booths and games. And toward the end, there’s a big cake.”

“Sounds exciting,” said Falco.

Up ahead, there was a red-and-blue speck, standing next to a pink speck. Luigi and Falco heard a joyful cry before the red-and-blue speck raced toward them. It was Mario!

Letting out a joyful cry as his own, Luigi sprinted over to meet his bro. The man in red practically jumped into Luigi’s arms, wrapping his legs around his waist and throwing his arms around his neck. The two of them hugged tenderly, Mario’s head snugly against Luigi’s shoulder and huge smiles on both their faces.

Falco stood a respectful distance away, watching the bros hug.

“I missed you so much!” Mario exclaimed.

“I missed you, too,” said Luigi.

“After the two Steves spread their lies everywhere, part of me wished you were by my side,” sighed Mario.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” said Luigi, “but I needed that time by myself. Well, not really by myself.”

“You’re right. We needed some time apart,” said Mario, pressing his forehead to Luigi’s.

“It still hurts so much,” Luigi said softly, “but I set it aside because you’re my bro, and I love you. I felt it even when I saved you from those four and when we went to rescue Peach. I felt it when Koopa tried to get you to surrender by inflicting more pain on me. I felt it, but I ignored it because I hate fighting with you. And now…”

“I’m sorry, Luigi—I don’t know what else to say,” blubbered Mario. “I’m sorry for not being there for you, for barely giving you credit where it’s due and for saying those words. I just—acted and didn’t think.”

“Why would you say that when I came to help you?”

“Because I’m stupid. I’m a stupid little man with stupid dreams who gets his rocks off rescuing princesses.”

Mario sobbed. “I hurt you because of it, traumatized you…”

Luigi sobbed with him. “I don’t hold you responsible. And the mansion—was a good thing wrapped inside a bad thing—a hard candy with a soft center.”

“Forgive me, Bro…”

“What for?”

“Everything.”

“There’s nothing to forgive.”

“Knowing you’d be there with _him_, even though he’s locked in a Vault, had me so worried,” said Mario, “and then Falco showed up…”

“It worked out for the best,” said Luigi. “We managed to bond, and I shared some of my knowledge with him. He wants to talk to you, you know.”

“I do, too. But not now. Not now.”

“He’ll understand,” said Luigi.

“I just want everything to be okay between us,” said Mario. “I don’t know what we’re gonna find out tomorrow, and…”

“That’s the thing,” said Luigi. “Something you said over a week ago doesn’t matter anymore. Because you’re probably gonna learn a lot of intense facts tomorrow, and I’ll need to have your back.”

“You’ve spent all of this month so far having my back,” said Mario. “Let me return the favor now.”

“Okeydokey.”

They held each other close before separating, smiling heartily at each other.

Peach glided over. “Hi, Luigi,” she said.

“Hi. Thanks for postponing the party.”

“You’re welcome,” said Peach. “We’ll be having some company, though.”

“Yeah—thanks for telling us that,” sighed Luigi, “but we won’t let them dampen the occasion, will we?”

“No, we won’t,” said Mario.

Falco joined the group. “Hey, everyone,” he said.

Mario gave Falco a hard stare as Peach gamely smiled on.

“My kingdom is yours for the day, Falco,” said Peach.

“Thanks,” said Falco.

The quartet headed over to the middle of the park, joining up with Master Hand, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory, who was hand-in-hand with Amy. Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle, Chase, Rolf, Vanessa, Theo, Ethan and Anna were also among those present.

“Hello, Luigi,” said MH. “Nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you again, too, Master Hand,” Luigi said crisply.

“I’d like us to start fresh,” MH went on.

“And I’d like that, too,” said Luigi.

“So would we,” said Rory.

Both Bros turned to look at him.

“There was no reason for us to do what we did,” said Rory, “but we were deceived as much as you. If there’s anyone you should focus your ire on, it’s Crazy Hand.”

“He didn’t make you beat me to nearly a pulp, and you know it,” said Mario.

“Mario, come on. You’ve forgiven Koopa for his antics many times over. You even forgave DK all those years ago for putting you and Pauline in danger. Why can’t you forgive us?”

“He’s right—things just got out of hand that day,” said Remy, “but we’re actually good fans of yours.”

“Or else we wouldn’t be here,” Jimmy chimed in.

“It’s something the four of us will have to live with for the rest of our lives,” sighed Timmy. “I assure you, though, that if we’re given another chance, then we’ll never act uncivilized like that again.”

Mario and Luigi looked hard at the four men.

“C’mon, you two,” said MH. “There’s no sense in this. I’ve already punished them accordingly, and they’re even helping me sort this nerf business out. At the very least, can we just drop the matter?”

Mario’s eyes met Amy’s. “Hello,” he said politely.

“Hi,” said Amy.

“That’s my little sister, Amy,” explained Rory. “I love her more than any material possession in the world.”

Mario glanced at Luigi before making his decision.

“For the sake of your _sorella_, I’m going to let your actions slide just this once,” he said tersely. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“We won’t,” said Rory. “I promise.”

Jimmy grinned like a fool and clapped a hand on Mario’s shoulder. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked.

But Mario brushed his hand away, his face flint. He’d agreed to drop his vendetta against the four, and nothing else.

Jimmy took it in stride. “Apologies,” he said. “I understand that my pals and I must regain your favor.”

“That’s right,” Mario said icily. “You do.”

“The festival’s about to begin,” said Peach. “I need to get ready.”

“Okeydokey,” said Mario, and then the two kissed. “Knock them dead!”

Peach smiled and glided off.

Everyone else headed over to the Main Stage, where the customary reenactment would take place. The front row was reserved for the Mario Bros, Peach, Toadsworth and other members of the royal court. Everyone else made themselves comfortable in the remaining rows, hoping that they scored the perfect viewing spot.

Luigi turned and saw Vanessa, Theo and their kids seated in the row behind him. “First time?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Vanessa.

“It only happens once every five years,” said Luigi, “so why not make the most of it?”

“True,” said Theo. “Why not?”

Falco, Marth, Roy, Mewtwo and the other meeting-bound Smashers were likewise excited. They knew that this anniversary was a huge deal, but this was the first celebration they attended. Despite everything, they were honored to share such a special part of the Mushroom Kingdom’s history.

Toads worked their way down the seating area, offering free sodas and water to the attendees. Aromas of various foods cooking wafted over from the designated food court, which would open after the reenactment and speeches. A hush settled over the park, and when all of the seats were full, latecomers spread out blankets on the grass under the trees’ cool shade, hoping to witness history coming to life.

**1.1.1**

At 10a.m. on the dot, Peach glided onto the Main Stage to a standing ovation from the spectators. She waited until everyone settled down before launching into her welcome address.

“Good morning, and thank you all for coming,” she said. “I am so happy to have all of you joining me and my dominion in celebrating 30 great years of having Mario and Luigi in our lives. Grateful Toads will speak to you on how these two brothers’ presence has touched them morning, noon and night. Cuisines from all across the kingdom will be available for you to sample, and there will be numerous live performances, DJs and games ready to entertain you. Last but not least, those with an eye for fashion can browse wares from our local designers. To kick off the festivities, however, please give a warm welcome to the Mushroom Kingdom Theatre Company as they present the customary reenactment of my first successful rescue!”

There was a shower of applause, and then the spectators quieted, allowing the performers to concentrate.

As a full symphony orchestra played the first familiar notes of the “1-1 Ground Theme”, two performers dressed as the Mario Bros took their places on stage, expertly recreating the trek that began all treks through land, sea and sky. Inventive set design, lighting and camera work helped the two performers quickly change costumes whenever they were equipped with a “power-up”. Other performers, dressed as those familiar enemies, leaped onto the stage, and brief but excellently choreographed “skirmishes” ensued, which ended with the “Mario Bros” victorious. The stagehands’ quick timing allowed one scene to transition into the next, from the “overworld” levels to the “underground” levels, and to the “ocean”, “cloud” and castle levels, with the music cues changing appropriately. The authenticity was nailed to a “T”, and there wasn’t a single historical inaccuracy in sight. There was even a Toad at the end of Worlds 1 through 7 who delivered that iconic line: “Thank you Mario Bros, but our Princess is in another castle!”

Vanessa sat with her spouse and kids, drinking in the action, and throughout the reenactment, she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. The performance was an excellent combination of physical comedy, adult humor, pop-culture references, light drama and edge-of-your seat suspense. The performers standing in for the heroic brothers had such excellent chemistry that she wondered if they were actual siblings. Their antics could make her laugh one moment, only to make her tear up the next as one “brother” got “injured” and the other “brother” rushed to his side. Of course, “Luigi” provided most of the comic relief, in line with his real-life counterpart’s personality.

The Smashers seated with her exchanged sidelong glances and approving nods. This reenactment wasn’t quite on par with a Broadway performance, but it grabbed hold of them and didn’t let go. Mewtwo paid attention to the set design, while Marth and Roy were sold on the performance of the two leads. Dark Pit was focused on the lighting, and Rolf, Chase and Kyle felt themselves being transported in time, thanks to Koji Kondo’s legendary 8-bit score being translated into an orchestral delight. Theo’s favorite aspect of this performance was the costume design, and Ethan and Anna relieved the hours of playing _Super Mario Bros_ together. The Bennigan Brothers, who had arrived just as the reenactment was starting, were theatre buffs in their own right. They decided that they liked it only a few moments in, thanks to the consistently paced storytelling, nostalgia factor, the leads’ stage presence, and the costuming, sets and makeup. They knew that this was something that the theatre company took seriously.

As for Luigi, what he liked most about this reenactment was that he was an important player _for once_. In past reenactments, they either flubbed his name, called him “Green Mario” or eliminated his role altogether. But this time around, they _finally_ got it right—down to the displays of brotherly affection he and Mario displayed and how they worked as a team to overcome enemies, negotiate obstacles and solve puzzles. They even decided to flesh out his character a bit. As far as reenactments went, this one deserved five stars.

The man in green closed his eyes and let his mind take him back to 1985, where “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”, “Take On Me” and “St. Elmo’s Fire” played on the radio, where _Back to the Future_ made moviegoers laugh in the cinemas and _Amadeus_ reintroduced them to the titular Austrian composer. Where products like Walkman radios and Aqua-Net flew off the shelves and Nintendo brought the NES to overseas consumers.

Where he and Mario fell through that pipe and met the Toads of the MK for the first time.

The two of them had listened to popular 80s hits on their aforementioned Walkman radios or told each other raunchy jokes to spice up their trip through eight worlds. They’d eaten and rested on the go, reserving most of their breaks for when they stayed at a Toad House upon completion of each world. They’d hit “?” blocks and discovered the Super Mushrooms’ growing power, the Stars’ energizing power and the 1-Up’s ability to grant them second (and third and fourth and fifth…) chances in life. They’d learned how to really depend on one another when the going got tough. And by the time they’d finally reached Koopa’s castle, they knew that nothing would ever be the same.

Now, the reenactment approached the climactic moment in question. The “Bros” standing on one side of the bridge and “Koopa” standing on the other. “Koopa” started his monologue about how Peach would be his queen until the end of time, and then his “foes” charged into battle. Theo and Vanessa had to hold Anna’s hand during the “final battle”, and most of the spectators were breathless as well, despite the foregone conclusion. The stage was lit by different shades of red and orange, giving the impression that the action took place in the very depths of Hell. And maybe it did.

The harrowing fight gave way to catharsis as the “Bros” landed a simultaneous uppercut on “Koopa”, sending him toppling off the bridge. Relief rumbled across the seating area, and then a beam of white light shone onto one end of the stage as “Peach” strode in. She was clad in that white gown with red-orange accents, her wavy red hair tumbling over her shoulders. Tourists would be shocked to know that Peach was a natural redhead, and that she dyed her hair blond in the 90s. Nobody would tell them that she was thinking about reverting her locks to their natural hair color nowadays. But I digress.

“Peach” approached her “rescuers” and thanked them, kissing each of them on the nose. The light above the “Bros” turned light pink to signify the tiny hearts bursting out of them. The reenactment concluded at Peach’s “castle”, where Koopa’s spell was broken and the Toad populace celebrated their new heroes with a huge cake.

The spectators cheered thunderously as the reenactment’s cast took their bows. Then, the cast and crew cut slices of the huge cake, which they distributed to the audience.

There was a brief intermission as the crew took down the sets to prepare for the speeches. In their place was a projection screen, which began to play a slideshow on loop. A podium with a microphone mounted on top was situated in front of the screen, and a technician performed a sound check.

Once everyone finished their cake, Toadsworth took to the stage and invited the attendees, locals and tourists alike, to the podium and say a few words about the first mission, the Bros in general, or both. He also advised that they keep their addresses as brief as possible.

“I remember the moment like it was yesterday,” said one of the first Toads who volunteered. “There I was, in brick form, cut off from my loved ones, having lost all sense of time. Wondering if I’d ever be able to move my limbs again or feel the sun on my face. Being turned into a brick has a way of reshuffling one’s priorities, so I was just contemplating this and that when—I heard something. It sounded like a car engine, along with music. The noise grew louder, and soon, I could make out ‘Take On Me’. It was the kind of song that would easily get stuck in your head. I wondered, ‘Who on Earth could be driving a car when we’re all supposed to be blocks and bricks? Unless…’ And lo and behold, I was once again a Toad—a living, breathing Toad. I’ll never forget the euphoric feeling of regaining my humanity. The first thing I saw was a convertible, with Peach riding inside, safe as can be. And on either side of her were Mario and Luigi, looking as if they’d gone five rounds with the Koopa King—which they did. I think.”

Chuckles.

“Thank you, Mario Bros,” said the Toad. “Being under that enchantment was torture, and your heroic efforts helped put an end to it. Now, I can taste my favorite ice cream and feel my friends and family hug me good morning and good night.”

Applause.

“Once upon a time, I used to hide in my house with my doors and windows locked and my curtains drawn,” said another Toad. “When I mustered the nerve to go out, I constantly looked over my shoulder, wondering if Koopa’s minions would pop out, turn me into a block or brick, or worse. I stayed tuned into the TV and radio whenever possible, and I never stopped praying. Then, one afternoon, I got a call from another Toad who managed to survive the initial ambush. Her voice was strangely happy. And she said to me, ‘You don’t have to run or hide anymore. It’s over. The curse has been broken.’ I ran outside, and sure enough, all of the blocks and bricks were turned back into Toads, and I could see Peach and her retainers driving past in that convertible. Riding with them were two men I’d never seen before, each clad in a hat, shirt, overalls and boots, sweaty and dirty and buffeted, and they looked awestruck as Peach reversed that turtle’s enchantment. I called out to her, ‘Who are they?’ And she called back, ‘Mario and Luigi, the two men who rescued me!’ Later, I joined the other Toads at the castle to celebrate our ruler’s grand return from the bowels of Hell.

“Nowadays, I can fling my curtains open and let the golden sunlight pour in. I can walk the streets with a confident stride and even go out at night. No more do I have to glance over my shoulder or sleep with one eye open. And no more do I have to listen to the silence of a desolate kingdom. Thank you, Mario and Luigi, for breathing new life into the Mushroom Kingdom.”

More applause.

One by one, more Toads walked up to the podium and gave their speeches. They talked about how the Mario Bros restored their peace of mind on that historic day in 1985. They spoke of what the two heroic plumbers had given back to them, most of all their hope, their dignity and their self-respect. They told of how easy it was to get the wheels of their kingdom turning once again. And they spoke of how they, their children and their children’s children, and so on and so forth, were willing to stand in the pouring rain for hours to get a glimpse of the brothers who taught them to hold on just a second longer.

After the MK’s grateful citizens had an opportunity to speak, longtime fans of the _Super Mario_ franchise were invited to have their say, as well.

“I remember playing the first game in my university dorm room,” said Vanessa. “Sometimes, I’d play alone, and other times, a roommate would help me. And all I could think was, ‘Wow. Look at these two ordinary men, journeying through 8 extraordinary worlds.’ However, Peach has to be my favorite character, even if she’s the one we save. She’s far from the damsels in distress we see in video games and other media. As soon as she’s rescued, she rolls up her sleeves and gets her kingdom up and running again. Even after dealing with Koopa for thirty years, she remains a symbol of the endurance of the human—and Toad—spirit. She’s smart as well as beautiful. She’s strong. And she’s a Princess worth rescuing.”

“Mario is someone who we all want to be,” said Ethan. “Even after what he’s seen, he leaps toward life with a big ‘Wah-hoo!’ For thirty years, men, women, children and Toads alike have shared in his optimism and joy. Despite the Mushroom, Fire Flowers and Stars at his disposal, I’d say that Mario’s big heart is his most important power-up. It was him who rose to the occasion and faced off against a fire-breathing dragon-turtle hybrid with nothing but his fists, his pyrokinesis and his smarts. It was him who brought so much comfort to the harried Toads. It was him who survived so much and yet always comes back for more. He’s compassionate, loyal, protective and fearless. Truly, the MK couldn’t have asked for a better hero.”

A handful of the Smashers in attendance decided to give brief speeches as a preliminary act of contrition, including Rolf, Chase, Marth and Kyle. The Mario Bros listened to their words intently and applauded when the speeches were finished, but while it was a good ice-breaker, tomorrow was when they’d truly demonstrate their remorse.

Then, Master Hand had a turn.

“You may recognize me as the master of ceremonies for the Super Smash Bros tournament,” he said. “As such, I invite the best of the best of the best to participate in contests of strength, speed and brilliance. And Mario certainly meets that criteria. He is living proof that you don’t need magical powers, laser vision or total invincibility to be a hero. And he’s also demonstrated that you don’t have to be among the wealthy elite to be a hero. For thirty years, he’s volunteered to give his life for the peaceful Toads, rebuffing evil forces that would want to tear down their realm or subjugate it to wicked whims. This small man with a red cap and a bushy moustache has looked a reptilian menace in the face and said, ‘You’re gonna lose’. Think about that for a second. An ordinary man, battling an enemy larger and stronger than him. It goes to show you that ordinary people can be heroes, and though not all ordinary people can win against a cross between a turtle and a dragon, they’re better than they think they are.”

Applause.

“It’s an honor to have you in my tournament, Mario,” said MH. “Keep on doing what you do.”

He floated back to his seat to more applause.

Once everyone who wanted to had a turn to speak, it was Mario’s turn to walk up to the podium.

“It’s true that I helped make this kingdom a better place,” he said, “but there’s one person who I couldn’t have done it without—my bro. From start to finish, he had my back. He helped me clear the seemingly insurmountable obstacles in my way, defended me from hordes of enemies and gave me a pep talk whenever I felt discouraged. He was there when Koopa’s minions tried to sneak attack me, and he was likely to toss me a power-up he came across than use it himself. During the final fight, he was at the top of his game, taking Koopa’s more devastating attacks in my stead. Most importantly, when I found myself cast in two situations where I was completely helpless, he came through for me and saved my life, nearly at the cost of his own. Being a hero is a huge responsibility, and it’s Luigi who’s helped me bear that load. I don’t think I would’ve kept the MK safe for 30 years if it wasn’t for him. So while I’m the reliable everyman who’s kept Koopa at bay, I also hope that you’ll take the time to thank my baby bro. He’s just as much the hero of this story as me, maybe more.”

Luigi wore a big smile as Mario finished speaking. As soon as the man in red stepped down from the podium, his younger sibling gave him a powerful hug.

“Aww…” cooed the audience.

Last but not least, Peach addressed the crowd.

“Ever since the Mario Bros rescued me for the first time, I’ve never run out of ways to improve my dominion,” she said. “I introduced the sporting events and kart racing tournaments to encourage a healthy, active lifestyle among my constituents. Koopa’s repeated visits haven’t stopped us from experiencing a stabilized economy and improved trade relations. When we see those airships in the sky, we no longer despair, for we know that my stay ‘in another castle’ won’t last long. That turtle may pride himself in snatching me every Tuesday or Friday, or every Tuesday _and _Friday, but he’ll never snatch our spirit. One thing that you don’t see in the video games is that I don’t spend my time passively awaiting rescue. I manage to send messages to close friends and advisors, and I’ve undertaken several escape attempts. I can look into my captor’s eyes without fear, knowing that Mario and Luigi will always beat him. And after each ‘visit’, I know that we’ll work together to rebuild the MK so that it stands stronger than ever. Thirty years after I was first extracted from his clutches, I defy King Koopa to do his worst.”

Peach’s address was met with thunderous applause.

All of the speeches were concluded, and it was time to enjoy what else the celebration had to offer. Hungry attendees went to the food court to sample cuisines spanning the Kingdom’s regions. After their bellies were full, they went to explore the various booths scattered throughout the park. There was the virtual reality booth, with games like Beat Saber to try out. There was the face painting booth for the younger crowd. There were booths with vendors selling the hottest _Mario_ games, toys, books, clothes and the like. But what the attendees enjoyed most was the music.

DJs took to the Main Stage, rotating every hour on the hour, playing dance music from the 80s to the present day. There were even occasional dance-based games, such as musical chairs. The grassy lawn was crowded with people showing off their best dance moves, and security was nearby to make sure things didn’t get rowdy. And it was here that Luigi got a good look at the brothers rumored to have spearheaded this nonsense.

The man in green recognized Stu in the crowd, but this was the first time he’d glimpsed his three siblings. He didn’t even _know_ Stu had brothers. While Stu had reddish-brown hair, the other three were dark-haired. One had neatly trimmed and wavy hair, another had his hair in shoulder-length curls and the other wore his hair short. Presently, they were huddled with Stu, sharing a laugh.

Setting his lips, Luigi escaped the crowd of dancers and marched straight up to the four brothers.

“Hello, Stu,” he said curtly.

The Bennigan Brothers whirled.

“Oh! Hey, Luigi!” cried Stu. “Long time, no see. How’ve you been?”

“Maybe your brothers can answer that,” said Luigi.

Vince, Manny and Shane wore guilty looks.

“Look, L,” said Stu. “After MH gave me the heave-ho, I spent some time abroad, and during that time, I allowed myself to think about what I’ve done. I know you’re still kinda upset at me, as is your right, but—I’m a different man now. And I’m sorry for making things difficult for you.”

“Are you?” asked Luigi. “Or are you sorry for MH catching you in the act?”

“I used to think I was justified in antagonizing you, but now I know I had no excuse,” said Stu. “If given a second chance, I promise that I’ll never treat you cruelly again.”

Luigi’s eyes slid from Stu to his three siblings. “I’ve never actually met your brothers, have I?” he asked.

“No,” said Stu. “Vincent is the eldest, but you can call him Vince. Manny is the middle brother, and Shane is the youngest.”

“Hello, Luigi,” Vince said nervously.

“Yeah. Hi,” Manny chimed in.

“Good party, huh?” added Shane.

Luigi stared hard at the trio. “So—what do you think?” he asked.

“What?” frowned Vince.

“This is the first time you’ve seen me, and I want to know your thoughts,” Luigi crisply explained.

“Uh—well—I…” stammered Manny.

“You’re—quite—handsome,” Vince managed to say.

“Yeah. Handsome,” echoed Shane.

“And yet—you decided you hated me before you even got the chance to properly meet me,” Luigi said icily.

The Bennigan Brothers exchanged nervous glances.

“What have I ever done to you?” Luigi demanded of them. “What do you have against me that would prompt you to send Stu over to harass me and then spearhead a plot to get me nerfed?”

“That’s—the thing,” said Vince. “We don’t—really know anymore.”

“But we’re trying to make things right,” said Stu. “Tomorrow, we’re gonna lay everything bare. We promise.”

“Maybe we didn’t wanna believe that someone like you could do the things you did,” shrugged Manny.

“So I guess you can chalk it up to envy,” Shane put in.

“I envy my bro sometimes,” said Luigi, “and I don’t act like that.”

“Look, we’ll explain everything the best we can tomorrow,” said Manny.

“But for now,” said Vince, “I hope you’ll accept our apology for all of this. And I know it won’t make things better, but we weren’t happy when the two Steves cornered you in the Training Area.”

“I don’t hold grudges,” said Luigi. “At least, I don’t hold them for very long. And I hope you include that in your prayers tonight.”

“So—does that mean you accept our apology?” asked Vince.

Luigi smiled thinly at them—and then he left without giving them a definitive answer.

**1.1.1**

Later in the afternoon, the attendees were given a free bus tour of the Mushroom Kingdom. The route started in Mushroom Park and wound through all of the key landmarks, including Boo Woods, before finishing at Peach’s Castle. Peach’s Toad retainers greeted everyone at the door and split the attendees into separate groups, each retainer leading one group on a walking tour of the castle.

After that, the attendees were invited to step into the Mario Bros’ boots in a first-person, VR version of _Super Mario Bros_! Men, women and children from all walks of life could now experience the thrill of racing through eight worlds, leaping over chasms, breaking open “?” blocks, collecting coins, hopping onto Mushroom Defectors and subduing Koopa Troopas before kicking the shells into groups of attacking enemies. And at the end, they got to face off against the Koopa King himself, leaping over fireballs and hammers before retaliating with fireballs of their own. They could either slide under Koopa, grab the ax and use it to destroy the bridge, or they could grab Koopa by the tail and swing him around a few times before hurling him away. They could also dodge claw swipes and land punches and kicks on their foe. Either way, once they defeated Koopa once and for all, Peach would thank them for saving her, complete with a kiss on the nose.

Several more rooms in the castle provided more entertainment. The game that started it all was set up in one room, for example. And in another was the newest offering, _Super Mario Maker_, which was exactly what it said on the tin. Mario’s longtime fans could let their creativity surge, dreaming up outlandish courses of their own using templates from 1985, 1990, 1991 and 2012. If they wanted to stack enemies atop one another, then they could go for it. If they wanted to put in cannons that fired coins instead of Bullet Bills, then that was fair game. If they wanted Mario to take on multiple Koopa Kings, then they could make it happen. They could make these courses as simple or as difficult as they wanted. And even better—if they had amiibo figures with them, then they could equip Mario with a character “skin”, allowing him to play as Pikachu, Link, Kirby—practically anyone!

There were two separate stations for _Super Mario Maker_. One station was for creating courses, and the other was for playing courses. Due to the high volume of attendees, everyone was allotted to creating and playing one course each. Eventually, several more stations for the game were set up in two different rooms.

However, attendees could reserve their spots to play SMM. While they were waiting, they could walk through small galleries, indulge in the VR Room and try to dunk someone dressed as Koopa into a small pool of water. There was an interactive exhibit based on the first adventure. And finally, there was an informal Q&A with Peach, Toadsworth, Toad, Toadette and the Mario Bros. A lot of questions were directed at Luigi, and he was more than happy to answer them.

At sunset, everyone gathered in the banquet hall, where a huge cake shaped like 8-bit versions of the Mario Bros was presented. Several Toads helped slice the cake and serve it to the attendees. As they ate, Peach gave a short address thanking everyone for coming and led a toast to the next 30 years. Once everyone had a slice of cake, those who were interested lined up for seconds.

After having his fill of cake, MH hovered over to the Smashers.

“Our hotel rooms in Sarasaland are ready,” he whispered. “After you’re finished, we’ll catch a flight to Sarasaland and check in.”

The Smashers nodded to show that they understood.

“We need to stay behind to help clean up,” said Peach when MH passed along the news to her, “but we’ll join you later tonight. Safe travels.”

“You, too,” said MH.

As night fell, MH, Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle, Chase, Rolf and the other Smashers who planned to attend the meeting met up with the Bennigan Brothers, Theo, Vanessa, Anna and Ethan at the airport. They all managed to book first class or business class seats on the final two flights of the day to Sarasaland. Once the Mario Bros, Peach and the Toads finished tidying the castle after the celebration wound down, they also flew to Sarasaland on Peach’s private jet.

Once they were all checked into their hotel rooms, they unpacked their suitcases, soaked in the bathtub or took showers, and then reclined in their beds, watching TV and trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, to doze off.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.


	21. T Plus 20 Days

The Sarasaland Community Center began filling up with people as early as 6:30 a.m. Cars were expertly maneuvered into parking spaces. Those unable or unwilling to pay the $5 parking fee carpooled or used rideshare services, having their driver drop them off in the valet area. People also took buses or commuters to the venue, and some even biked. It wasn’t long before the concession stands roared to life, serving breakfast at an affordable price to the attendees.

After enjoying their meal, the attendees filed into one of the meeting rooms and took their seats, talking quietly among themselves. The men were clad in suits or polo shirts and slacks, and the women were clad in blouses and skirts or dresses. The Smashers sat in the front row, trying not to look nervous. Vince, Manny, Stu and Shane were doing the same thing.

Master Hand arrived at 8:30 a.m., followed by Peach and the Mario Bros at 8:45. The Bennigan Brothers studied the two plumbers, trying to gain an insight into what they were thinking. But the duo wasn’t even looking at them. Vince dropped his eyes and breathed a prayer. He hoped that he and his brothers could tell their story and then get out of here without being attacked.

Chad and Charlie stood there, surveying everything. This meeting had surprisingly good turnout. So many people were willing to take the high road and tell Luigi everything. It made Chad feel a little better about this—but he couldn’t relax until he was up on that stage, actually talking about it.

At 9 a.m. sharp, Daisy walked in, flanked by her bodyguards and her ladies-in-waiting. The attendees quieted the second they saw her.

“Please, take your seats,” said Daisy.

Everyone obliged.

“This meeting will now come to order,” Daisy went on. “First of all, I’d like to say good morning, and thank you all for being here. Thank you all for finding the courage to do the right thing. I frankly don’t know what I’m going to find out today, but I’m willing to forgive, as is Luigi, if your accounts are forthright, truthful and correct.”

“Thank God,” murmured Vince.

“I’d now like to introduce the organizer of this meeting, Chad Wrainwright,” said Daisy.

She moved aside as Chad strode over to the podium and took a deep breath.

“Hello,” he greeted. “I called this meeting because I felt the need to give you all a safe space to confess to Luigi and all of his friends, away from the prying eyes of the two Steves and Crazy Hand. And like Daisy said, nothing should be left out. Telling Luigi what you did to his face is surely a daunting task, so allow me to start us off to prove to you that it’s not that hard.”

He cleared his throat. “Last month, I was briefly involved in an endeavor known as Project Nerf. The aim of this endeavor was to convince Master Hand that Luigi was overpowered. From there, he’d go to the suits at Nintendo and have them draft an update patch which would apply a nerf to Luigi’s down throw and eliminate some of his combos. I was frustrated that he won over me and ranted to MH before joining this endeavor. And during our match, I rendered Luigi unconscious at one point, something which I deeply regret.” He gazed at Luigi before continuing. “Shortly thereafter, the two of us were paired together in a Team Battle, where I showed poor judgement and poorer sportsmanship—I let him do all of the fighting while I showboated for the crowd. Afterward, Luigi looked so hurt and worn-down that I began rethinking my participation in Project Nerf. I saw my chance to escape and took it, and I even apologized to Luigi for what I did.

“Unfortunately, after the new patch went into effect, Crazy Hand visited me and told me that he had evidence of my involvement. Using this evidence, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse—help out in another endeavor called ‘Operation Ballot Box’, set to begin next month, to keep Daisy from winning the Smash Ballot. He also had the two Steves brutalize me into doing his bidding. At this point, the only way to extricate myself from their hold is to tell the Mario Bros myself. Otherwise, CH would have. And now that I’ve taken that step, I’d like to invite my fellow conspirators to do the same.”

Silence. Then, Koopa raised his hand.

“I’ll go,” he said.

Chad rejoined Charlie as Koopa lumbered onto the stage.

“Hey, guys,” said the hulking reptile. “I’m the King of Koopas, you know, the one who’s spent the last 30 years trying to make Peach my queen.” He gave her a flirty look and received a stony, regal one in response. “Anyway, I became involved in the plot to nerf Green ’St—Luigi—shortly after we faced each other on the battlefield. In short, he kicked my [bleep] six ways to Sunday, and I was p—ed. After a rant in MH’s office, another fellow Smasher told me about the Bennigan Brothers. So, I joined them. I was among those who helped convince MH that Luigi’s combos were harming Smash more than helping it. MH interviewed me, and I painted Luigi as someone unable to take criticism. I gave that glove some testimonials, too. And—toward the end, I invited my co-conspirators to my castle, where we got to see Mr. Sakurai himself sign off on the patch notes. As a token of thanks, I gave the Bennigan Brothers a castle each in the Dark Lands.

“Well—that’s that. I know that this can barely erase the hurt I caused, but I hope it’s a good start.” Koopa exhaled as the attendees clapped. “Wow, that felt great. Who’s next?”

“Me, I guess,” said Dark Pit.

He sidled onto the stage. “My name is Dark Pit, but you can call me Kuro. But don’t call me Pittoo—I hate that name. I joined Project Nerf early on—Mewtwo talked me into it. I met with the Bennigan Brothers in a restaurant, and I agreed to help them, in exchange for regular trips to Chuck-E-Cheese’s, of course. I didn’t really do much—except sweet-talk Master Hand into contacting Mr. Sakurai. But after the patch went live, I antagonized Luigi during our match. I’m sorry, L—I shouldn’t have done that.”

Luigi gave Kuro a silent, piercing look.

Dark Pit exited the stage—and Falco took his place.

Luigi’s and Mario’s eyes smoldered into the avian as he began to speak.

“My name is Falco Lombardi, and I fly with Star Fox. Luigi and I—used to be friends. We bonded in Melee, but my brashness and impulsiveness strained that bond until a fateful matchup on Smashville. His combos frustrated me, and I wound up losing the match. Afterward, I exploded at him over it and made him feel like a liability to everyone. I didn’t mean for things to escalate into this—but it happened.

“That night, I invited Luigi to dinner to try and make things right. He told me he forgave me, but—things just weren’t the same between us anymore. I could barely look him in the eye, and I avoided Mario like the plague. And—well—Luigi was avoiding me, too, so…”

“Falco,” cautioned Chad, seeing Luigi tense.

Daisy held Luigi’s hand in support, and Mario slid an arm around his baby bro.

“Marth came by to console me, and that was when he told me about the Bennigan Brothers and the Miiverse group,” Falco continued. “I just meant to browse through the group and the website, I swear to you. But I found myself dragged into this web, and before long, I sent an email to Shane Bennigan. We communicated via email for several days before I started attending the meetings in person. And—it was me who came up with the best ideas.”

“Such as…” Luigi tightly prompted.

“I convinced them to approach Master Hand calmly, rather than simply rant to him. On the day the Mario Bros faced off, I scanned the crowd for Mario’s staunchest supporters, hoping to add to Project Nerf’s ranks. When I met Ethan, I struck gold, and I’m sorry to say that I encouraged some of his bad behavior.” Falco took a deep breath. “I made some phone calls and personally got in touch with Mr. Sakurai, and we met in his office. He told me that he had a grudge against Luigi due to a poor sales performance during his special year. And it was me who brought Mr. Sakurai directly to the Bennigan Brothers.”

“So, essentially, Project Nerf owes most of their thanks to you?” asked Luigi.

“Kinda,” said Falco.

“Mr. Sakurai wouldn’t have known about the plot if you hadn’t met with him, right?” Luigi pressed on.

“Not—as quickly,” said Falco. “I’m sure he would’ve found out on his own without me.”

“Even so,” said Luigi. “Your actions caused a chain reaction which led to my down throw being nerfed, the hounds pouncing on me, the two Steves beating me to a pulp…”

“Whoa, whoa,” said Falco. “Let’s back up here. I didn’t mean for all of that to happen. I—I thought that maybe just a small nerf would help get our friendship back on track. I didn’t expect the nerf to be that heavy.”

“What about when MH interviewed you?” asked Luigi.

“You know that’s confidential,” said Falco.

“Well—Mario told me that you tried to blame me for our falling-out. That’s—that’s not true, is it?”

“I only said that you took it too personally,” Falco said softly.

Luigi clenched his fists, and then relaxed them, considering. “Maybe I did,” he said, “but I just can’t believe that you, a good friend, would jump on that bandwagon.”

“I’m sorry, L. I don’t know what else to say,” said Falco.

“During my interview, MH told me that you were hostile and defensive, and that I acted like you were the bad guy,” said Luigi. “If that’s not trying to sling blame on me, then what is?”

“I regret it. Truly, I do.”

“What about the episode in the commissary?” Mario broke in. “I heard you saying that you _weren’t_ sorry, and that you’d do it again.”

“It was in the heat of the moment,” said Falco. “When I realized what I’d said later on, I was aghast.”

“Yeah—because you saw me,” said Mario. “And then you ran.”

“I was afraid for my safety, Mario,” said Falco. “You would’ve torn me apart in front of God and everyone.”

Mario glowered at Falco, but he said nothing, for he knew the avian was right.

“You knew about this when we were stuck in the elevator together,” said Luigi. “You knew about it when you gave me that ride on your Arwing. You knew…”

“I did a terrible thing,” said Falco, “and I’ve spent the days since wishing I could take it all back. I know it doesn’t make a difference, but—if I could do things differently, then I would.”

Quiet in the room.

“So,” Luigi finally said. “Where do we go from here?”

Falco gave a sad smile. “We’ll just have to see,” he replied before returning to his seat.

Hand in hand, Marth and Roy walked onto the stage.

“We—were the first two Smashers to sign on with Project Nerf,” said the Red Lion. “Marth was frightfully upset that Luigi defeated him. He and I were very vocal on the Miiverse group, and one night, we went to a party at the Bennigan Brothers’ estate. Marth was invited to speak about his ill-fated match, and boy, did he speak about it.”

“I offered to help them in any way I could,” said Marth. “Roy and I attended all of their meetings, and later in the venture, we helped revise Mr. Sakurai’s patch notes. We were so upset over those combos that we forgot why we befriended Luigi back in Melee. And I guess—recent events reminded us.”

_I acted as sort of a recruiter in the beginning_, Mewtwo divulged when it was his turn. _The first Smasher I tried to sway was Captain Falcon. When he turned me down, I went to Dark Pit, and later Kyle, and I was successful with those two. I also mingled with Mario’s fans alongside Falco, and I brought a handful of them to the Bennigan Brothers. I—I really didn’t have anything against Luigi. It was just—me being me._

By now, Mario was rubbing Luigi’s back as Daisy entwined her finger’s with her love’s.

“When we first became involved with the Bennigan Brothers, our family was a mess,” said Vanessa, looking directly at Luigi and Peach. “Ethan, our eldest child, was and still is a rabid Mario fan, and he mains him in Smash. However, he struggles against Luigi mains, and his peers teased him for that. As a result, Ethan would act out and sometimes antagonize his sister, Anna. During the showdown between the Bros, Ethan rooted for Mario, and when Luigi won, he—had words with his idol. I disciplined him and made him apologize to Mario, but Ethan continued his aggressive behavior, getting into fights at school and winding up suspended at one point. My husband, Theo, and I were so flustered. We tried teaching him how to play as Luigi, but he’d easily get frustrated. So—we turned to Project Nerf out of desperation. We really thought we were helping our boy, but now we realize that we weren’t.

“I circulated petitions, organized marches and even got my book club and Ethan’s school involved. One afternoon, I snooped around in MH’s office for materials the Bennigan Brothers and Mr. Sakurai might need, and Steve helped me escape. We even hosted the conspirators at our house one night. But despite having Koopa as our ally, I was very worried when I found out he was keeping Peach in his castle. I just want you to know that my family and I will always come down on the right side, and as long as Mario and Luigi are alive, you should know which side that is.”

“So—you and the conspirators were at a meeting when we arrived at the castle,” said Luigi.

“Yes,” said Vanessa.

“Which is why you didn’t want to be rescued,” said Mario.

“Yes.”

“If you were in the castle,” Peach began, “then why…?”

“I had no idea where you were in the castle,” said Vanessa, “and while I can certainly hold my own in a fight, I’m not like the Mario Bros. What if I’d been caught?”

Whispers.

“I’m sorry I let you down, Princess,” said Vanessa.

Peach smiled. “Apology accepted.”

Vanessa sighed in relief.

“Well—like Mom said, I was a problem child,” said Ethan. “I gave her a hard time, I gave Dad a hard time, I gave Anna a hard time, and I gave my school a hard time—all because I had trouble keeping up with Luigi mains. Project Nerf seemed like a more constructive outlet for my feelings, but now that I think about it, maybe practicing would’ve been a better outlet instead of complaining to people. Mario—I was a jerk to you. You may have lost to Luigi during a Smash Battle, but it doesn’t stop you from thrashing Koopa’s hide day in and day out. What’s it gonna take to put my little outburst behind us?”

“Don’t worry,” said Mario. “I’ve already forgotten about that.” _I have more important things to worry about, anyway._

“Great,” smiled Ethan.

Once all of the conspirators had a chance to address the Mario Bros, it was the Bennigan Brothers’ turn.

“For some reason, we decided we didn’t like you,” Vince said to Luigi. “I don’t know if it’s envy or what. But we first sent Stu into the tournament to make life difficult for you, and when MH kicked him out—we became more proactive in our grudge match against you. We got to talking, and we decided that the best way to hurt you was to seek out others who hated you. When we came across the angry mutterings about your down throw, an idea was born.

“After some back-and-forth on Miiverse, we met with the conspirators in person and pitched the idea to them. We’d convince Master Hand that you needed to be nerfed, and in turn, he’d convince the suits and Mr. Sakurai. Along the way, we had some surprising new additions, Falco included. But Mr. Sakurai was the most surprising. I mean, who could’ve known that he also had it out for you?”

“All September long, we met in restaurants, bars, our estate and even in the homes of a few co-conspirators,” said Manny. “We’d invite Smashers or Smash players to talk about their experiences and essentially rant about you. When Falco made his choice, it really set the gears turning. The original plan was to indirectly arrange for Master Hand and Mr. Sakurai to meet, but when Mr. S strode into Red Robin alongside Falco—Project Nerf was turned on its ear. We were able to see our brainchild through to the end much quicker than we expected.”

“But how does Crazy Hand factor into this?” asked Luigi.

“We were just getting to that,” said Shane. “Crazy Hand approached us one night and revealed that he knew about what we were up to. We thought he was gonna report us to his twin, but then he blindsided us by offering to help. He helped arranged the nightly meetings, communicated with us via Miiverse and our website, put up the conspirators in style and contributed financially. Whenever we went out to eat, Crazy Hand footed the bill. Essentially, he covered most, if not all, of our expenses, and he also gave us hefty reimbursements.”

“Cash?” asked Luigi.

“Electronic check,” said Shane. “We still have the receipts if you’re interested.”

“Thank you,” said Mario.

“Was Crazy Hand also in contact with Mr. Sakurai?” Luigi wanted to know.

“I’m really not sure,” said Shane, “but I _can_ tell you that Crazy Hand did everything for us except get directly involved. He didn’t want to risk his position as the assistant master of ceremonies.”

“He chose to get involved because—he was jealous that you could withstand his power,” explained Vince. “Or—something like that.”

“Wow,” said Luigi.

“And—I contributed from the side,” said Stu.

“So did I,” said Wario.

“Me, too,” said Dorf.

“Wow,” repeated Luigi. “Whatever happened to simply practicing?”

Silence.

“All of this—just to hurt me. I didn’t even do anything to you. I hadn’t even met the Bennigan Brothers until Stu came along. What is it with me and winning? Do you think I’m not allowed to win just because…?” Luigi couldn’t finish.

And the attendees couldn’t answer.

“You actions indirectly led to the two Steves cornering me, to MH going off on my bro and to those four guys cornering him, among other things,” said Luigi, “and I don’t know what else it’ll lead to when we’re back in the Smash Mansion.”

“Luigi, we’re…” Marth started to say.

“And you can apologize a million times, but it won’t reverse the nerf, nor will it do away with the harassment that arose because of it.”

“Well, at least we confessed,” said Kyle. “It’s not like we were dragged to this meeting.”

“Yeah. We came of our own free will,” said Vanessa.

“If that doesn’t demonstrate remorse, then what does?” added Theo.

Luigi smoothed his hair. “I’m glad that you came forward,” he said. “I just can’t believe you’d go through all of that trouble over a needless grudge.”

“But what about Crazy Hand and the two Steves?” asked Dark Pit. “Those three are the main threat right now.”

“Fear not,” MH spoke up. “I have a plan to get to my brother and Sakurai, and I know it will work.”

“And the two Steves?” asked Chad. “They’re CH’s muscle.”

“Once my brother and Mr. Sakurai go down, then I’m sure Steve and Stevie will go down, as well,” said MH.

Thunder began to softly roll in as he spoke.

“Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Kyle, Dark Pit, Koopa, Wario, Ganondorf, Chase and the other Smashers who were involved in this—I will see you in my office bright and early tomorrow to discuss fines and possible probation,” MH sternly went on.

“Probation?” gasped Chad.

“You still need to answer for attempting to subvert the tournament,” said MH. “The fact that you voluntarily confessed is the only reason why I’m not considering suspension or expulsion.”

There was a crack of lightning.

“As for you, Mario and Luigi—your suspensions are lifted, effective immediately,” said the Hand of Creation. “You may resume fighting matches tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Master Hand,” said Luigi, “but we need to stay in the MK for a few days.”

“We need to clear our heads after what we just found out,” added Mario.

“I understand,” MH said quietly.

“We trust that you’ll put Crazy Hand, Sakurai and the two Steves exactly where you want them,” said Luigi.

“I appreciate that,” MH told them.

Vanessa glanced up. “It’s raining,” she mused.

The room stilled at the sound of raindrops tapping against the Community Center’s roof. Slowly, the attendees stood, filed out of the room and exited into the downpour. The raindrops quickly soaked their clothes, hair and skin, but they didn’t mind. A strange feeling of relief washed over them as the deluge continued.

Ethan laughed heartily as he threw his arms around Anna, their parents quickly joining in the embrace. Marth reached out and took Roy’s hand. Mario and Peach held each other close, as did Luigi and Daisy. Koopa and Dorf stood together, smiling. And everyone else enjoyed the feeling of the cool rain on their faces.

“Wow,” said Chad. “We did it. We actually did it.”

“True,” smiled Charlie.

“I don’t think I would’ve done it without you,” Chad went on. “You gave me the courage to see it through to the end. Thanks.”

“No problem,” Charlie said softly.

Wearing a big smile, Chad took Charlie in his arms.

And then they kissed.

**End Season 2**


	22. T Plus 21 Days

It was just after breakfast in the Smash Mansion. Master Hand sat at his desk in his office, levelly regarding the group of Smashers seated before him. Those Smashers were the ones who’d participated or aided in Project Nerf and manipulated Master Hand into applying a possibly unjust nerf to Luigi. Koopa, Chase, Chad, Dark Pit, Falco, Dorf, Kyle, Rolf, Marth, Mewtwo, Roy and Wario exchanged worried looks as they waited in suspense for the Hand of Creation to speak.

“Thank you for seeing me,” MH said finally.

“You summoned us, Master Hand,” said Chad.

“Even so—this shows that you’re willing to face the consequences for your actions,” said MH.

“Of course,” said Koopa. “This nonsense has to end sooner or later.”

“Let me guess—you have another evil scheme up your sleeve?” MH asked in slight amusement.

“I always have evil schemes up my sleeve,” said Koopa, “and it’s almost Friday. You _know_ what I like to do on Friday.”

“What Luigi said yesterday is correct,” said Marth. “We hurt him and a few people close to him for no justifiable reason. Instead of complaining, we should’ve practiced and devised a better strategy against him. Now—I don’t know where we’ll go from here.”

Murmurs of assent.

“Me, neither,” sighed Falco. “I threw a wonderful friendship in the garbage.”

“We all did,” said Roy. 

“We were so caught up in his combos that we forgot that he’s—a good man,” said Kyle, “and that’s why we befriended him in the first place.”

“Yeah, he’s—all right,” Wario acknowledged.

“Gentlemen,” said MH. “Before I decide your punishment, I hope you know that what you did to Luigi over the past month or so was a s—y thing. A _very_ s—y thing.”

“We know,” said Marth.

“Lying to me, wasting time and funds—all because Luigi kept defeating you in a Smash Battle? Do you have any idea just how _disproportionate_ that was?”

“We do now, Master Hand,” said Koopa. He would’ve made a quip about trying to grab Daisy instead, but he knew that it wasn’t the time or place for it.

“As I mentioned, such an offense would’ve warranted suspension or expulsion from this tournament,” said MH. “However, you’ve begun to atone for your actions by willingly confessing to me and to Luigi. Which means—you’ll receive a lighter punishment for your behavior. I can’t let you off completely scot-free, of course—you need to be discouraged from acting in such a manner again.”

The assembled Smashers listened warily.

“Roy, Marth, Koopa, Falco, Chad, Rolf, Chase, Dark Pit, Mewtwo and Kyle—since you were directly involved, you are hereby placed on two weeks’ probation beginning tomorrow, and you must pay a fine of 125G by the end of next month. Wario and Ganondorf—since you merely contributed from the side, I hereby impose upon you a fine of 75G, which you must pay by the end of next month.”

Shoulders sagged, but everyone accepted their punishments.

“Regarding the former group, you all know the rules for probation, yes?” asked MH.

“Yes, Master Hand.”

When a Smasher was on probation, they were still permitted to fight in regular matches. However, they were barred from special matches, such as 8-Man Smash and Trophy Rush, and they couldn’t represent their home universe in a public combo exhibition.

“Have you spoken to Steve and Stevie yet?” asked Koopa.

“They’re still confined to their rooms, since they pose a direct threat to Chad,” responded MH. “But they will also be punished for their role in this. And if I find that my dear brother and Mr. Sakurai were also involved, then they will be punished, as well. As for you all, I strongly suggest you spend the next few weeks thinking about what you did and why you did it.”

“Fair enough,” grumbled Wario.

“Will that be all, Master Hand?” asked Roy.

“That will be all,” replied MH.

Chastened, the now-penalized Smashers filed out of the office. MH watched them go before pressing a button on his intercom.

“Hello, my dear Crazy Hand,” he said. “I need to speak to you.”

Hardly a few minutes later, CH floated inside. “Morning!” he sang out.

“Morning,” replied MH. “Please, have a seat.”

CH obliged. “So—what’s shakin’, bacon?”

“I’m glad you asked,” said MH. “Lately, I’ve heard some _disturbing_ rumors. Here, have some hot chocolate.”

CH accepted the mug. “Rumors?” he asked. “What about?”

“About our latest update patch,” MH said smartly.

CH blew on his mug. “Uh-huh,” he said.

“A few people are saying that—we didn’t really need that update patch.”

CH sipped on his hot chocolate. “Why not?”

“Because, my dear Crazy Hand, rumor has it that our latest update patch was just an elaborate plot against Luigi.”

CH nearly spat out the hot chocolate. “Luigi?!” he cried out, feigning shock. “Why would anyone want to target _him_?!”

“As you recall, a lot of the Smashers complained about him last month—in this very office, no less. They all said that his down throw was overpowered.”

“Do you—think they were exaggerating?”

“No. I think they were jealous over his combo ability or simply salty over losing to him. And according to this circulating rumor, after the Smashers grew tired of ranting to me about Luigi, they ranted to Mr. Sakurai. They plotted to subvert this tournament, simply because Luigi kept winning over them. And not only that—there are also rumors that Mr. Sakurai was in on it from the beginning due to a personal grudge against Luigi.

“Now, here’s my proposal. I’m going to be busy over these next few days, so I want you to go to Nintendo HQ and talk to Mr. Sakurai and the other suits. Sort things out. Can you do that for me?”

“Uh—y-yeah,” said CH. “S-sure, I can. I’ll catch the next flight out.”

“Thanks, my dear Crazy Hand. You’re a real pal,” grinned MH.

“So are you, my dear Master Hand,” replied CH. “Will that be all?”

“That will be all, dear brother.”

CH rose from his chair and floated fairly fast out of the office. Once he was out of earshot, MH summoned Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory.

“What do we do now, Master Hand?” asked Timmy.

“We wait,” replied Master Hand.

**1.1.1**

CH went straightaway to Steve and Stevie’s room, where Eden and Lauren still stood guard. “A moment, please?” he asked.

Eden nodded. “Don’t take too long,” she said as she and Lauren moved aside.

CH briskly rapped on the door. “Guys, it’s me,” he said. “May I come in?”

The door opened, and CH quickly slipped inside.

“What’s up, CH?” asked Steve.

“My brother,” CH said urgently. “He knows! I was just in his office, and he told me about this _rumor_—but I _know_ that he knows! He—he wants me to talk to Mr. Sakurai!”

“You think Chad spilled the beans?” asked Stevie.

“I _know_ he did!” hissed CH.

“Well—we’re under lock and key right now,” huffed Steve. “It’s not like we can do anything.”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan,” said CH. “I’ll go see Mr. Sakurai, and then I’ll do what I can to get you two out of here. Together, we’ll get our revenge.”

Steve nodded. “Chad won’t know what hit him,” he said.

“Okay—what about the Mario Bros?” asked Stevie. “They’ll be loaded for bear when they get back.”

“Let _me_ handle them,” said CH. “Right now, you two need to stay alert. My brother could be onto you.”

“Thanks for the heads-up,” said Stevie.

“No thanks is necessary,” said CH. “See you guys round.”

He left the two Steves’ room, giving Lauren and Eden a nod as he passed them.

Then, Eden contacted MH.

“We’re on our way,” she told him.

His response was a simple, “Good.”

**1.1.1**

In her hotel room in the MK, Amy was up with the sun, eating a hearty four-egg breakfast from room service and watching the morning news. When she was done eating, she dressed in a pair of lavender gym pants and a lavender sports bra, swept up her hair into a ponytail, turned on her music and danced, quickly working up a sweat to her favorite tunes.

Across the way, Luigi was doing something similar, except that he began his day with a pancake breakfast, rather than an egg breakfast. He didn’t really pay attention to the news, instead wriggling into a pair of navy blue gym pants and his usual peppermint-stripe socks, cranking up his own tunes and beginning to dance. As he shimmied and swished his body, his mind continued to digest what he’d learned yesterday. This conspiracy—it was bigger than he imagined! And it possibly went all the way up to Mr. Sakurai himself! Several people who used to be his good friends decided to disrupt the tournament, rather than buckle down and practice. _That_ got to him more than anything—along with the fact that _Falco_, of all people, had accelerated the plot.

Back in her room, Amy’s mind was comfortably blank as she danced the morning away. This was one of her favorite morning routines. Wake up, drag herself out of bed, get some food in her stomach and then turn up her music and cut loose to get her blood pumping for the day ahead. Then, she’d talk to Rory and head out the door.

Meanwhile, Luigi also continued to dance without a care in the world as Polterpup curiously looked on. Later, he’d powwow with Mario regarding their next move before helping Peach get ready for Koopa’s Friday visit. It was better to start now than later, after all. But his friendship with Falco weighed heaviest on his mind. Falco had confessed, but as he’d warned the avian back in Evershade Valley, he didn’t know what would become of their relationship after all was said and done. And the reveal that Falco had brought Mr. Sakurai to the conspirators and basically recruited Ethan to this twisted cause had blindsided the man in green. Perhaps the imminent rescue mission two days from now would help him clear his head.

As Luigi contemplated his relationship with Falco, Amy sank back onto her bed, gasping for breath. She turned off her music and jumped into a shower before changing into a long-sleeved dress, a mini jacket and thigh-high boots. Just as she’d finished dressing, she received a Skype call from Rory.

“Hey, big brother,” she said. “What do you have for me?”

“MH just sent CH to Nintendo HQ to speak with Sakurai,” said Rory. “Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and I hope to listen in on their conversation and gather concrete evidence that they were both in on Project Nerf. We also have a man on the inside who’s helping us. His name’s Jeff, and he’s at work installing hidden recording equipment in Sakurai’s office. He’s also making copies of any documents related to Project Nerf to send to us.”

“You think they’ll fall for it?” asked Amy.

“Amy, they’re falling for it already,” laughed Rory.

“Do I still need to keep an eye on the Mario Bros?” asked Amy. “Now that most of the conspirators told them everything, they should be less volatile.”

“I don’t know about that, Sis,” Rory said worriedly. “Confirmation of a plot against Luigi is more likely to put Mario further on the warpath.”

“Well, Koopa’s due to visit on Friday,” said Amy. “It’ll give them something to do.”

“And we’ll bring you back afterward,” said Rory. “I want you to enjoy the rest of your time in the MK, all right?”

“As a matter of fact, I’m gonna visit Boo Woods later today,” said Amy. “All right. Talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye,” said Rory before the two siblings hung up.

Back in his room, Luigi rested from his exertions, snuggling with Polterpup. He perked up at the knock on his door.

“Bro?” Mario’s voice called from outside.

“Coming,” said Luigi, pulling on a shirt as he walked toward the door and opened it.

“Hey,” greeted Mario with a big smile.

With an equally big smile, Luigi opened his arms, and Mario practically threw himself into them.

“How are you holding up?” asked Mario.

“The best I can,” Luigi replied. “So—what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Well—first, we’ve got some plumbing jobs to do,” said Mario, “and after that, we’ve got to prepare for another _visit_. Then, I was thinking about going through the materials Chad provided after that meeting.”

“Okeydokey,” said Luigi. “I’m up for it.”

The Bros separated.

“I’ve got to warn you, though,” Luigi went on. “MH still doesn’t trust us. You’ve met Rory’s sister, Amy, yes?”

“Yeah, at the anniversary party.”

“Well—she’s been keeping tabs on you from the very moment you set foot in the MK,” said Luigi, “and she’s staying at the hotel across from us.” He pointed out the window. “There’s her room.”

Brow furrowing, Mario started toward the window, only for Luigi to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t make eye contact,” he warned.

“H—how do you know?” asked Mario.

“The moment I saw her at the party, I just—had this feeling about her,” said Luigi. “During the party, I noticed how closely she was observing you. That’s when I started wondering, ‘What if MH and Rory put her on your tail?’ Besides, I have a knack for figuring out things like that.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Mario.

“Lay low for a while,” cautioned Luigi. “Let _me_ deal with Amy.”

Mario huffed. “I should’ve _known_ MH would spy on me,” he said. “What is he, my dad? I know what I’m doing.”

“He’s just—being Master Hand,” shrugged Luigi. “Now, I’m prepared to forgive him, and I’m prepared to forget those two exchanges he had with you. But God help him if something happens to you because he chose to invade your privacy.”

_That’s my bro_, thought Mario.

The man in red checked in watch. “I’d better get going,” he said. “See you in a bit, Bro.”

“Yeah. See ya.”

Mario turned on his heel and left, and Luigi jumped into an invigorating shower before dressing in his usual getup. Finally, he turned off his TV, grabbed up his things and was out the door.

A few moments later, so, too, was Amy.

**1.1.1**

Crazy Hand blew through the doors of Nintendo HQ, his fingers wriggling with desperation. The receptionist jerked her head up when she saw him enter.

“He’s waiting for you in his office,” she said.

“Thank you,” CH said breathily, proceeding into one of the elevators, which he took to the top floor.

Jeff was waiting for CH when he arrived. “Hi, Crazy Hand,” he said. “Let me walk you over.”

CH followed Jeff to a set of double doors, upon which the latter knocked. “Sir? Crazy Hand’s here,” he said.

“Send him in,” said Mr. Sakurai’s voice.

With a smile, Jeff opened the door and let the Hand of Destruction inside the office before closing the door after him. Then, he hurried inside his own office and switched on the recording equipment he’d installed earlier.

Inside Mr. Sakurai’s office, the tournament’s financier shook hands with CH.

“Thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice,” said CH.

“Not a problem,” said Mr. Sakurai. “Please, sit. Care for a drink?”

“I had some hot chocolate earlier,” said CH. “Maybe later.”

“You look quite stressed, Crazy Hand,” observed Mr. Sakurai. “Is something the matter?”

CH nodded. “Unfortunately, this isn’t a social call,” he said. “We have a situation on our hands.”

“Meaning…?”

“My brother—he _knows_!”

Sakurai blanched. “Wha…?”

“He knows everything—or almost everything! Early this morning, he told me of a _rumor_ floating around about the update patch being a conspiracy! The way he looked at me and suggested that I talk to you about made a little red flag go up! I don’t know how, but…” CH paused, and a dark look came to his face. “That S.O.B.! I should’ve known!”

“To whom are you referring?” asked Sakurai.

“Chad Wrainwright! He was involved in Project Nerf for a few days before bowing out! However, I managed to salvage evidence that he was part of it, and I thought I could use it to buy his assistance with another scheme! But he probably wriggled himself out from under my thumb and told my brother!”

“He told more than just him,” Sakurai said calmly.

CH stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

“Yesterday, Chad held a meeting somewhere in Sarasaland,” explained Sakurai. “In it, he confessed everything about Project Nerf and invited the other conspirators to do the same—and almost all of them did. They spilled the beans to MH, Princess Daisy, Princess Peach and the Super Mario Bros, among others.”

“How do you know about this?” asked CH.

“Chad took all of the necessary precautions,” smiled Sakurai, “but he didn’t know that I’d always stay one step ahead. There’s a spy among Daisy’s royal court. Unfortunately, there was a delay in receiving the news; otherwise, we would’ve planned a little surprise for the attendees.”

“So—you just found this out,” said CH.

“Looks that way,” said Sakurai.

A beat.

Then—

CH exploded in a litany of curses against Chad.

“I can’t believe this!” he exclaimed. “All of my insurance on him—gone! And now he’s put the dogs on our trail!”

“Relax,” said Sakurai. “We destroyed all of the evidence, remember? They can never prove that I was involved in it, and they’ll never find out _why_ I partook in it—how I hold that selfish green a—hole responsible for the disaster that was the Year of Luigi. All of the recordings of our meetings, all of your financial contributions, from paying for our meals to arranging swanky overnight accommodations, those little cards identifying someone as a member of Project Nerf—gone forever.”

“_You_ guys destroyed the evidence,” groaned CH. “_I_ didn’t!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I kept copies of the evidence stashed away in my office,” CH confessed. “I needed it for insurance in case the scheme went pear-shaped. Since rarely anyone enters my office, I figured that it was the safest place to hide it!”

“Insurance—like blackmail?” asked Sakurai.

“Don’t say that—it’s a horrible word!” exclaimed CH. “The better term is ‘persuasion’. And I was gonna use it if Project Nerf fell apart at the last second—which it didn’t!”

“And you kept the evidence, anyway?”

“To use as a meal ticket if I was found out! Had I gone down, I would’ve taken everyone with me! But Chad turned the tables by having everyone else confess first! Now, they’ll all wind up with light punishments, while the two Steves and I are facing the shark’s jaws!”

Sakurai was taken aback. CH was ready and willing to roll over on him, as well as several participants of a tournament he helped host, to save his own skin! In that moment, the tournament’s financier realized that the Hand of Destruction was anything _but_ a benefactor.

“I thought I had Chad cowed—but obviously, I was wrong,” huffed CH. “Oh, there’s gonna be retribution. He is gonna _pay_!”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Sakurai, beginning to grow unnerved.

“You’ll see,” growled CH, “and so will Chad.”

Sakurai cleared his throat. “Er—before you go,” he said. “I’m aware that your brother is keeping the two Steves detained in their rooms. I have a little something that will help them.” He slid a medium-sized wooden box toward CH.

“Thanks, I guess,” said CH, taking the box. “I want you to go through all of your offices and make sure that every last shred of evidence is cleared out. Lock down the entire building if you have to! My brother and those plumbers are arguably on the warpath now, so from here on in, it’s every man for himself!”

He turned to leave, but then a thought came to him. “I might also suggest checking out Jeff,” he added. “He’s been very chummy with Chad lately.”

On those words, Crazy Hand floated out of the office, leaving the tournament’s financier shaken—a very rare occurrence.

**1.1.1**

Rory’s eyes glittered in triumph as he looked at Master Hand. “We got them,” he said.

“Excellent,” said MH.

“What’s our next move?” asked Remy.

“Leave that to me,” replied MH. “We have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.”

The Hand of Creation, trailed by Remy and Rory, headed over to Crazy Hand’s office, where Chad, Charlie, Jimmy and Timmy searched the place top to bottom.

Sending CH on that errand was more than just a bid to engineer a confession. It was also a diversion. MH knew that his twin would hide evidence of the Smashers’ involvement in his office, just as he knew that he’d willingly give up all of the conspirators to save himself. The question was—_where _in his office would he stash the evidence?

Earlier in the month, when CH had summoned Chad to his office after the latter almost confessed to Luigi, the young man had glimpsed a secret drawer in a corner of the room, near the window. As soon as the coast was clear, Chad had gone directly to that drawer, and as luck would have it, CH had left the drawer’s key behind in his haste! When Chad opened that drawer, he, Charlie, Jimmy and Timmy hit pay dirt. There were audio and video recordings of the meetings. Folders containing information on each participant. Transcripts of the rants to MH and to each other on Miiverse and other social networking sites. Brief essays describing why each participant chose to get involved. Receipts from the restaurants the conspirators had dined in. Hotel bills. Confirmations of numerous financial transactions. MH, Remy and Rory helped the quartet sort through the evidence, and then everyone scanned copies of the materials to MH’s computer. When they were finished, everything was returned to its proper place, and the septet powwowed in MH’s office.

“It seems—there was an inside man at your meeting,” MH said to Chad. “Now that CH had found out about it, you’re in serious danger. I would like you to remain vigilant until he and the two Steves have been dealt with. Jimmy, Timmy—would you like to be his bodyguards?”

“Sure,” said Timmy. “Anything to help.”

“We’ll all be his bodyguards,” offered Rory, “and we’ll work in rotating shifts. How does that sound?”

MH nodded. “Even better.”

Sitting at his computer, the Hand of Creation e-mailed PDFs and JPGs of the evidence they’d gathered to each of his helpers.

Chad laughed heartily. “Oh, the tables have turned, Crazy Hand,” he said. “The tables have turned.”

**1.1.1**

It was early afternoon in the MK. Amy stepped off the tour bus and began walking toward the gloom that was Boo Woods. Fat clouds began to block out the sun, and the temperature dropped several degrees. In response, Amy zipped up her jacket halfway and stuck her hands into her pockets, breathing in the earthy scent of the purportedly haunted forest. The first thing she spotted was a cluster of ghost houses among the bare trees. The next sight that caught her eyes was a colossal manor, painted green and white, with an “L” on the centermost rooftop arch.

“Luigi’s new house,” Amy mused.

Amy ventured deeper into Boo Woods, coming upon a small town with shops and restaurants. But her attention was soon drawn from this town by a Boo manning a ticket booth.

“Hello there!” greeted the Boo when Amy approached. “Are you interested in a tour of our lovely woods? Guided tours depart this area every hour on the hour, but there’s also the self-guided tour option, where you can go at your own pace.”

“I’ll take one ticket for the self-guided tour, please,” said Amy, fishing out her wallet.

To her surprise, the Boo waved the wallet away. “This one’s on the house,” they said, giving Amy a pair of headphones connected to some sort of remote. “Follow the glowing arrows to a Boo icon—that’s your starting point. When you’re ready, press ‘1’, and then work your way from there.” They grinned and licked out their tongue. “Have fun!”

The Boo cackled as Amy proceeded as instructed, locating the Boo icon with little difficulty. She reached into her purse, took out a travel-sized flashlight and clicked it on. These Boos seemed nice, but she didn’t want to take any chances. This flashlight wasn’t just an ordinary flashlight, either. Pressing another button would cause the light to blink rapidly, disorienting an oncoming attacker long enough to get away. Plus, she still had her telescoping baton—a special gift from a special brother.

Taking a deep breath, Amy slid on the headphones, adjusted the volume on the remote and then pressed “1”. And the self-guided tour began.

Amy was taken through thousands of years of Boo history, narrated by a pleasant male or female voice. First, she learned how the Boos first settled into the woods that bore their name and organized themselves into various communities. Eventually, these communities were united under a single King, named TyBoo, whose reign lasted until about 10,000 B.C. From there, the Boos established an elective monarchy and voted the succeeding Kings into power.

Throughout the tour, Amy was instructed to walk toward several other Boo icons before pressing a button on the remote. Or, she was instructed to walk toward a certain point while listening to the narration. She became acquainted with various landmarks, from the monuments depicting noteworthy Boos to a Boo Garden springing with vibrant flora. She even got to walk through some of the ghost houses, her mind stimulated by illusionary tricks and magic mirrors. Boos floated around her, giggling, but they were quite helpful, guiding her toward the next point of interest whenever she got lost or discombobulated.

From the ghost houses, Amy was led to what was presumably the Boos’ castle, where the royal court resided. Samples of the finest Boo cuisine were presented to her on trays, and she gazed upon the official portraits of the prior Kings—along with statues and portraits of the current King. One Boo icon was located in a ceremonial room, where the Kings were officially crowned. A film projector showed footage of the current King’s coronation in 1955, the large Boo wearing a violet cape as he knelt before a larger Boo holding a book, bowing his head. Then, he drank deeply from a large, jewel-encrusted chalice before turning around and facing forward as a golden crown, topped by a glowing gem, was placed atop his head. A radiant light shone from the gem, the new King’s face splitting into a sinister grin. Amy was shocked at how little King Boo’s appearance had changed in his 60-year reign. At this point, the narration turned ominous, promising Amy, “You’ll hear more on the King later.”

More glowing arrows directed her back toward that small town, the narration giving her a crash course on Boo culture. Boos, unsurprisingly, were fascinated with art, be it fine art or performing art, and they’d been patrons of the arts from the time of their first King. When Amy reached the small town, she sampled offerings from the restaurants and was given travel-sized lotions and fragrances from the various shops. That segment of the tour concluded with her receiving a gift bag.

The tour lasted for close to an hour and forty minutes, allowing Amy to observe all of the important landmarks and hear about key moments in Boo Woods’ history. However, the tour’s final segment took her to just outside the gates of that colossal manor.

Here, she learned about the “decline” of the Boo monarchy. And indeed, life for the Boos, as well as the people they affected, wasn’t the same following that fateful October night in 2001. Until that moment, Boos were thought to be invincible, as they couldn’t be defeated conventionally. But a weakness had arrived in the form of a certain red vacuum cleaner. Amy leaned against the gate, closing her eyes as she was transported back in time, sitting in front of the TV in her bedroom, clutching her GameCube controller in her hands as she guided Luigi through the most important adventure of his life. Rory sat next to her, encouraging her and giving her a helping hand during a tough boss fight. It took a lot of screaming, tears and continues, but she’d eventually made it to the climactic moment where everything—including the public’s perception of Luigi—changed for good.

_“You gotta shoot those spiked balls back at him!”_

_ “I’m trying! I’m trying!”_

_ “Don’t give up, Sis! You’re almost there!”_

_ “Drat! I had him!”_

_ “You’re doing great, you’re doing great! Just hold down that R button and tilt that Control Stick in the opposite direction he’s trying to go!”_

_ “Aw, man! Almost got him!”_

_ “Here, let me take over for a while…”_

Amy had gotten that “Good Night!” screen numerous times, bemoaning the fact that she’d failed Luigi when he needed her the most, before finally sending that evil King where he belonged and freeing Mario. The scene of Luigi standing there, laughing and crying at his bro’s dazed state made the countless game overs and sore, cramped fingers absolutely worth it.

And now, the entire adventure was being retold in that pleasing, pre-recorded voice. A voice which once again turned ominous as it talked about Luigi’s unlikely victory over the King of all Boos. The narration was clearly attempting to make King Boo the victim and failing.

“Boo society managed to survive in the wake of their King’s humiliation and capture, but all wasn’t lost. Just ten years after the incident, the King rose again, more powerful than ever, swearing revenge on those who dared to challenge him. For two years, he lay low, meticulously laying out his plans, before unleashing his rage on his former captors. However, sweet freedom was brief, and the King was once again unceremoniously sucked into a vacuum cleaner after a protracted, fierce battle.”

“Thank God,” murmured Amy.

“And so—our King remains—trapped in a vault alongside some of his valiant brethren, condemned to have his every action monitored by a diminutive old scientist.” As Amy listened, the self-guided tour’s audio began to slow and distort. It was starting to sound _angry_—vengeful, even. Psychotic. As psychotic as King Boo. “But if you think that this is where the story ends, then you have another thing coming. Just wait and see. You’ll see. A day will come when our King will escape again. And on that day—_these woods will run red with that plumber’s blood_.”

Amy’s heart stopped cold in her chest.

“Luigi and his friends had better start to pray.”

And then the audio cut out entirely, replaced by King Boo’s sinister, demented cackle.

For a while, Amy stood near that gate, hardly daring to move, her special flashlight tight in her fist. The Boos floating around her giggled evilly.

The moment was broken when happy music played over her headphones, a voice cheerfully expressing the hope that Amy had enjoyed the tour.

“Well, I _was_,” grumbled Amy.

Then, the voice instructed Amy to return the headphones and the remote to the nearest Boo before bidding her good day.

Amy didn’t need to be asked twice. She whipped off the headphones and carefully wrapped the cord around the remote before spotting a Boo floating nearby, waiting.

“Hi,” she said as she approached the Boo. “I’m supposed to give this back to one of you guys.”

The Boo took the equipment with a smile. “Thank you, Amy,” they said.

“I never told you my name,” Amy said with a frown.

“You didn’t have to. We Boos know everything about everyone. That’s our power.”

“Well,” said Amy. “That’s not unnerving at all.”

“Do tell Rory hello for us,” purred the Boo. “He must be having the time of his life, working for Master Hand.” They cackled. “He’s more than welcome to tour our woods anytime.”

Amy sucked in her breath, brandished her flashlight and placed it under the Boo’s chin.

“Touch my big brother,” she growled, “and I _will_ come after you.”

This made the Boo laugh even more. The other Boos in the area joined in as well, casually drifting around the young woman.

“Now _that’s_ something Luigi would say,” said the Boo. “You _do_ know about Luigi, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Amy said bravely.

“You two have a lot in common. You’re the younger siblings, and yet you wanna look out for your older brothers, just like they’ve looked out for you.” All of the Boos giggled. “You may disagree with your older brothers’ methods, but at the end of the day, you’re a team, and you understand that they just want what’s best for you. Tell us, Amy—are you afraid of ghosts?”

“Not in the least bit,” Amy replied.

“Are you afraid of _us_? Are you afraid of our King?”

“You don’t scare me, and neither does your King!”

“You _should_ be afraid. You have no idea what our King is capable of.”

The Boos laughed again.

“Buddy—you have no idea what _I’m_ capable of,” Amy shot back, “and the day your King lays hands on Rory—then you’ve _really_ had it.”

“Relax—we have no reason to go after you or Rory—yet. It’s just—we get _bored_ when Luigi’s not around.”

“Well, too bad for you,” Amy said briskly, “because you’ll _never_ harm him or his friends again!”

“Oh, we’ll see,” cackled the Boo. “It occurs, though—our King is so powerful that he can break out of his containment at any time. Have you ever stopped to wonder why he hasn’t done so yet? Maybe—he’s waiting—for the opportune moment.”

Giggles and cackles swirled around Amy as she swiftly turned and left.

**1.1.1**

Back inside the Smash Mansion, Falco turned the Post-It note King Boo had given him over and over in his wings. So, the sadistic marshmallow had a fanbase of his own, eh? There were people who shared his twisted view of Luigi, eh? They met every week to discuss the ways the King could exact revenge against his nemesis, eh? Their fan-club president was devoted to the point of writing fan letters, eh? This fan club could be a gold mine. If Falco infiltrated it, then he could gain wind of any sinister plot against Luigi and his friends and warn them in advance!

Wait a minute—what was he thinking?! Falco couldn’t do that! He couldn’t associate with the main source of Luigi’s nightmares! Not after the progress they’d made in Evershade Valley! He was still on thin ice with him, by the way—as well as with Mario! What if those two took his joining King Boo’s fan club the wrong way? The avian was torn. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted Luigi’s trust and friendship back. He wanted to prove to the Mario Bros once and for all that he wasn’t the bad guy. He—

He wanted to redeem himself.

But—

What if King Boo _was_ planning something? What if this fan club of his actually succeeded in breaking him out—and Falco knew about it? Luigi and everyone he loved would be thrown into danger, and Falco would’ve let them all down because of his inaction. The avian had to take the risk by joining the fan club and gleaning out necessary information. He _had_ to try.

Falco poured himself a glass of sweet wine before sitting at his laptop and booting it up.

“Well—here goes,” he muttered, opening Google Chrome and punching in the URL for King Boo’s fan club.

And when the page loaded, Falco couldn’t believe his eyes.

The fan club really _did_ exist!

The home page showed a giant image of King Boo, grinning morbidly. On the drop-down menu, Falco saw that there was a newsletter, a media library, a chat forum and an “About Us” section. Clicking the “About Us” link didn’t yield as much information as Falco had hoped, but it _did_ clue him in on the fanaticism of King Boo’s fanbase. He _really_ needed to get inside before they made their next move!

After a moment’s hesitation, Falco clicked “Join” and entered his information where instructed. After he created a username and a password, he was taken to another page, where he was encouraged to beef up his profile, describe his likes and dislikes and connect his social media accounts. Of course, Falco left out a lot of information, including the bit about being Luigi’s friend and attempting to reconcile with him.

When Falco was finished setting up his profile page, he was automatically taken to a chat room, where he was told to wait as an admin established a connection with him. The avian guessed that he had to chat with the fan club president before being fully accepted into the club.

** _H.G. is now connected with you._ **

“I knew it,” muttered Falco. “All right—let’s see what she wants.”

**H.G.: Hello, Falco. How are you doing today?**

**SpaceAce: Very well, and you?**

**H.G.: I’m doing wonderfully! Welcoming newcomers is always a pleasure of mine! May I ask how you’ve come to hear about us?**

**SpaceAce: From the man himself.**

**H.G.: Ah, so you’ve met him.**

**SpaceAce: I have.**

**H.G.: What are your impressions of him?**

**SpaceAce: A brilliant mind—a great visionary.**

**H.G.: And brilliant minds and great visionaries don’t belong in vaults, do they?**

**SpaceAce: No, they don’t. So—what is this, like a test or something?**

**H.G.: Something like that. Are you ready?**

**SpaceAce: Yeah—I guess I am.**

**H.G.: Do you agree that King Boo is a true patron of the arts?**

**SpaceAce: I do.**

**H.G.: Do you agree that King Boo has done nothing wrong?**

**SpaceAce: I do.**

**H.G.: Do you agree that King Boo is a firm but just ruler over his fellow Boos?**

**SpaceAce: I do.**

**H.G.: Do you think that King Boo is some sort of twisted psychopath for what he did to those two plumbers?**

_ D—n right I do_, Falco wanted to reply, but then again, that would’ve been suicide.

**SpaceAce: No, I don’t.**

**H.G.: Do you agree that those plumbers needed to be punished for regularly trespassing on his dominion?**

**SpaceAce: I do.**

**H.G.: Do you pledge your unconditional and undying fealty to King Boo and his subjects?**

**SpaceAce: I do.**

**H.G.: Are you prepared to participate in all of this fan club’s activities and be ready at all times to respond to my communications?**

**SpaceAce: I am.**

**H.G.: Then you’ll do nicely. Welcome to my King Boo fan club, Falco. This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.**

**SpaceAce: I really hope it is.**

**H.G.: Our next meeting is this Friday at 7p.m. If you can’t make it in person, then you can livestream it from this website. Either way, you MUST attend.**

**SpaceAce: I understand.**

**H.G.: Very good. See you soon. ** **😊**

** _H.G. has left the chat._ **

Falco sat there, gasping. There was no turning back now. He _had_ to attend the meeting, or else this H.G. individual and King Boo would suspect him of being a mole—which he was. But now that there was hard proof of an actual King Boo fan club, there were people he needed to warn!

He stepped away from his computer and grabbed his cell phone, dialing a number.

“Hello,” he said. “I’d like to speak to Professor Elvin Gadd, please.”

A pause.

“Hello, Professor?” said Falco. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

“Believe what, Falco?”

“You-know-who has a fan club! And for all I know, they could be plotting to bust him out of that Vault! You and Luigi need to remain vigilant and tighten security on that thing!”

“Wait. How do you know of this?”

“He gave me a Post-It note with the website URL on it! I thought it was a joke, but I just checked it out, and these guys mean business. There’s a chat room, a forum—the works! The fan club president is an individual named H.G.—whatever the Hell that stands for, and the club meets every Friday at 7p.m. Later, I’ll send you an email with the URL so you can check it out yourself! But in the meantime, you need to get down to the Vault and double the surveillance, double your security protocols, double _everything_! King Boo _does not_ leave that Vault!”

“Thank you. Don’t worry.”

And then the call ended.

Next, Falco called Luigi, praying that he wouldn’t be kicked to voicemail.

“What do you want, Falco?” Luigi’s voice was a bit sharp, and Falco had some clue why.

“Just—bear with me here,” said Falco. “I’m sorry to spring this on you, but I just thought you should know because _he’s_ involved.”

“Did he—did he escape?”

“No, but it’s much worse. That _fan club_ of his I told you about in Evershade Valley—it’s worse than I imagined! It has its very own _website_ and _fan club president_!”

Silence.

“L? Buddy? Are you all right?”

“That _monster_ really has a fan club?!”

“Yes! I mean, Koopa has a few fan clubs, too, but he’s more of an anti-villain than a straight-up antagonist.”

“And—you just found this out?”

“Well—uh—when KB and I were talking, he gave me the URL and _invited_ me to check it out.”

“Did you log onto the website?”

“I did. Listen to me, L. I have a plan, and it _will_ work. I’m gonna infiltrate the fan club, listen in on their plans, and pass it on to you and Gadd so you can be ready.”

“You’re gonna join this fan club?!”

“What choice do I have? I’m trying to look out for you, Luigi!”

“Have any of the fan club members talked to you?”

“Just their fan club president—one H.G.”

“H.G.? What does that stand for?”

“You got me. L, please, you’ve got to trust me on this!”

“Trust _you_?”

“Yes, trust. It’s what friends do.”

“You _yelled_ at me just because I defeated you fair and square in a Smash battle. And then you joined up with three brothers to basically ruin me and got the tournament’s financier involved!”

“Luigi, none of that matters right now! This is your life and well-being we’re talking about here!”

“Since when do you give a [bleep] about my well-being? You sure didn’t when you were conspiring to have me _nerfed_!”

“C’mon, Luigi. I confessed everything, didn’t I? I apologized, didn’t I?”

“Yeah? Well, look what happened before you decided to do so!”

“I’m trying to make things right here, L. Please, just throw me a bone. We’re not talking about a plot to alter your playstyle anymore. We’re talking about a plot to trap you in a never-ending nightmare. We’re talking about the guy who terrorized your brother and threatened the rest of your loved ones. What he’s done and what he _can_ do is worse than anything the Bennigan Brothers and the people behind Project Nerf have ever done.”

“D—n you, Falco…” Luigi dissolved into sobs. “Why did you say those things to me? Why did you help manipulate the suits at Nintendo? All you had to do was practice!”

Falco’s heart sank as his estranged Brooklyn buddy let out one pained and angry sob after another.

“I shouldn’t have gained wind of this information,” he said, “unless it was for a reason.”

“What reason? To curry favor with me and Mario and charm your way back onto our good side?!”

“No!” Falco let out a breath. “Luigi, I know you’re still hurting. I know you’re still steamed, and you have every right to be. But I’m not doing this for selfish reasons, I swear to you. After what I’ve done, I’ve just realized what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it’s right.”

A pause. Luigi pulled himself together, his sobs quieting.

“Do what you have to do,” he said finally, “and be careful.”

“Will do, L. May God be with us.”

“Hey, Falco?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll see you when I get back. And—we’ll talk.”

Falco smiled. “Great. I’d like that.”

“Bye.”

“Bye, Luigi.”

Falco hung up and sighed. He kind of figured that Luigi’s guard was up, and that the progress they’d made in Evershade Valley was threatening to fall apart. But the avian simply had no other option. With him on the inside, the man in green and his elderly mentor could launch a pre-emptive strike against the King of all Boos and his allies. They wouldn’t even know what hit them.

He returned to his computer and resumed browsing the website. It was time to prepare for Friday’s meeting.

**1.1.1**

Since Luigi used the manor Professor Gadd had built for him as a timeshare of sorts, it was considered private property, and thus, no tourists were allowed beyond the gates, nor were any tourists allowed to take pictures. However, a large circular area had been set up near the manor some years ago, where locals and tourists alike could rest their bones and reflect on Luigi’s act of bravery. Also, they could leave flower bouquets, cards, gift baskets or other tokens of thanks on the circular area, and many Toads were on hand to accept any perishable items. And whenever Luigi stopped by, the Toads made sure that he received these gifts as soon as possible.

After calming her nerves at one of the restaurants, Amy now headed toward that circular area, her eyes sweeping over the many Toads and tourists gathered there. She didn’t know if they were genuinely proud of Luigi’s courage or just thankful that he saved Mario. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a box of cookies she’d purchased from one of the shops, found a vacant spot and gently set the box onto it. She’d had the cashier tie a green ribbon around the box, and under that ribbon, she’d slipped a small card with the words “Thank you, Luigi—from Amy” written on it in blue ink. It was a small gesture, but it would be enough to reassure the man in green that she, among others, wouldn’t forget the courageous thing he’d done that night.

“It’s a curious thing,” said a voice behind her.

Amy spun around, finding herself face-to-face with a purple-spotted Toad.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, it is.”

“Wanna walk with me?” asked Purple Toad.

“Why not?”

Purple Toad and Amy strolled around the circular area, eventually coming to an archway overlooking it.

“There was once a time when we could hardly remember who Luigi was,” Purple Toad went on.

“It must’ve hurt him,” said Amy.

“I think it did,” said Purple Toad, “but nowadays, we remind ourselves that without Luigi, there wouldn’t be Mario.”

“Does—Mario come here often?” asked Amy. “I think he’d love to see how you’re keeping the memory of his brother’s actions alive.”

“He—tries to avoid these woods whenever possible,” said Purple Toad. “Too many unpleasant memories, you see.”

“I know.”

“You should’ve been here on the 18th, though,” Purple Toad went on. “This place was _crowded_. Everyone had their arms _loaded_ with presents for Luigi—it got to the point that we had to set out shelves for them. We set up a podium with a mike in the middle of that circle, and hour after hour, people would come up and speak about what that night in 2001 meant to them.”

“I played the video game, you know,” smiled Amy. “I’d spend hours laboring away at it. While the game was relatively short, the boss fights made it worth my while. My older brother helped, you know.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah. Especially during the final battle. And seeing Mario free of that painting was the payoff.” Amy sighed deeply. “I’d do the same thing for my brother, too, you know.”

“You’d fight ghosts to save him?”

“Ghosts, monsters, men—anyone threatening him will have to answer to me.”

“You and Luigi—you’re a lot alike,” opined Purple Toad.

“We are. Both of us have big brothers who wanna protect us, but they need to realize that they can’t protect us from everything. Plus, we have moments when we don’t see eye-to-eye, but we always make up in the end.”

“And,” added Purple Toad, “you want to protect your older brothers as much as they want to protect you.”

“Why—yes,” said Amy. “Yes, we do.”

“Just you wait until October 18 of next year,” smiled Purple Toad. “It’ll be the 15th anniversary. Peach is expected to show up, and she and a few other important people will give some speeches. There’s gonna be music and games and food—truly, a fun party. And the cake—I hear it’s gonna be shaped like the Poltergust!”

“Which one? His current model or…?”

“You know—I’m not quite sure,” replied Purple Toad.

“Does he still have the 3000 model?” asked Amy. “For—sentimental reasons?”

“It’s a sure bet he does,” said Purple Toad.

High-pitched giggling sounded, and Amy looked down to see a Boo hiding in her purse.

“J—s,” she said. “Luigi needs to be more careful, and so does the Professor.”

“Don’t bother them, and they won’t bother you,” said Purple Toad. “Usually.”

“He had the 3000 model for twelve years, and he’s had the 5000 model for two years so far,” mused Amy. “I really think he needs a new one—he needs to keep up with evolving technology and the Boos’ evolving power.”

“Hear, hear.”

“Between this and his nerf—I don’t know how he deals,” said Amy.

“Me, neither,” said Purple Toad. “Wait—are you a Smasher?”

“No, but I have the Wii U version of the game. I’m also friends with someone on the inside.”

“A few days ago, there was a meeting,” said Purple Toad. “Mario and Peach told us what happened to Luigi. First, people made fun of him because of his nerf. Then, those two men beat him to a pulp. Then, Master Hand suspended him—and now he’s found out that his nerf was part of a conspiracy.”

“Boy,” breathed Amy.

“And of course, Koopa did his Koopa thing, and he’s probably gonna do it again in two days’ time. Seriously—I don’t know how Luigi does it.”

“He—just does,” Amy said softly.

She looked down at the Boo snuggled in her purse. “Comfortable?” she asked.

“Oh, yes—definitely,” the Boo replied.

“Just—don’t look through my stuff, okay?”

“Now why would I do that?” asked the Boo. “I already know about you and how close you are with Rory. I know that Rory works for Master Hand in the Smash tournaments. And I know that things are quite—shaky—between Rory and Mario.”

“Well, yeah,” said Purple Toad. “He’s one of the four guys who cornered him and…”

“He apologized,” Amy broke in. “He feels awful about what he did and said.”

“But should they clash again, you’d come down on Rory’s side,” cackled the Boo.

“Look, neither were exactly in the right,” said Amy, “but neither were quite in the wrong, either. Mario wanted MH to disclose confidential information, he attacked two people, he took a golf club to MH’s car—and Rory and the others cornered him because of Crazy Hand’s machinations.”

The Boo blinked. “That wasn’t a question,” they said. “I know you’ll come down on Rory’s side. You’d do anything for your precious big brother. Even spy on people for him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Amy. “I’m just your average tourist, immersing myself in these mysterious woods.”

“If you sensed that Rory was in danger, then you’d drop whatever you’re doing and do everything in your power to see him safe,” the Boo went on, ignoring her.

“Yes, I would.”

“What if you saw him in our King’s throne room, as a handsome portrait? What would you do? What would you give?”

“You’d better not touch him!” warned Amy.

“We think he has the face for a portrait frame—especially with that curly red hair of his. All he needs is the perfect background. And that body—it’s a body our King can look at all day. Maybe if there were less clothes on that body…” The Boo gave a dreamy sigh. “But—Rory isn’t Luigi. Rory didn’t leave that lasting impression on us, but Luigi did. Even now, we can see him, feel him, smell him. He has a lovelier body than Rory. Can’t you just picture him, Amy? Can’t you just picture that body, shiny and slick with cold sweat, against our King’s canvas and framed by 14-carat gold? I suppose that Rory can hold us over until we get our favorite man in green back in our clutches.”

Heat flashed across Amy’s face as she grabbed the Boo’s tongue and pulled them close.

“I’m only gonna say this once,” she said. “You’re not putting your hands on my brother.”

She let go, sending the Boo tumbling in the air. They quickly recovered themselves and laughed.

“Relax, Amy,” said the Boo. “If we _really_ wanted your brother, then we would’ve already gotten him.”

“Well, you’ll never get him,” vowed Amy. “Not as long as I’m around.”

The Boo simply cackled and floated off.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Purple Toad. “All you did was play right into their hands. They _wanted_ you to react.”

“I don’t like people threatening Rory—plain and simple.”

“Do you think Mario’s threatening Rory?” challenged Purple Toad.

“What? No!” exclaimed Amy. “Like I said, both sides have a point. Rory shouldn’t have done what he did, but Mario shouldn’t be pumping MH for confidential info.”

“Then why is Rory having you follow Mario around?”

“Following Mario? The Boo never mentioned a name.”

“Let’s just say I put two and two together. So, how come Rory’s having you follow Mario?”

“Because…” said Amy, “because—we don’t want him to make a mistake. We don’t want his rage to take over him and push him to do something he can’t come back from.”

“He won’t do anything stupid,” Purple Toad said confidently.

“C’mon—it’s just a precaution,” said Amy.

“He won’t do anything stupid,” Purple Toad said again, and Amy knew there was no arguing with him on the matter.

**1.1.1**

Later that evening, Amy was on the light rail, headed back to her hotel. Her earbuds were in as she stared out the window. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted something green further down the light rail car, but when she blinked, it was gone. She reached up and pulled the “stop” cord as her destination neared, and when the light rail slowed, she rose from her seat, gathered her things and held on to a pole as the vehicle braked and the doors slid open.

Smartly, Amy disembarked from the light rail and strode purposefully through the terminal, stopping when she caught sight of another green object. It was a Green Shell with a note taped to it, bouncing off a wall toward her. After carefully stopping the shell with her boot, she picked it up, sat on a nearby bench, peeled off the note and read it.

_Looking for someone? __😉_

Next to the message was a smiley-face with a double-swooshed moustache on it. A knowing smile tweaked Amy’s features, and she fished a Sharpie out of her jacket pocket. Then, she laid the paper flat against the shell and wrote underneath the message, _Maybe. How about you? <3_

She got up and walked toward the tracks, seeing another light rail approach. Timing things carefully, Amy curled back her arm and let the Green Shell fly before darting into the station as quickly as she could.

Amy emerged onto the bustling streets, where another Green Shell came her way, bearing another note. _It depends. I hope you find who you’re looking for._ The message was punctuated with another smiley-face with a double-swooshed moustache.

_I hope you do, too_, Amy wrote back before flinging the shell away from her. Then, she hailed a taxi, which began cruising down the street toward her hotel.

Halfway there, her phone buzzed, and she fished it out to view a Facebook notification.

**_Luigi Mario sent you a friend request._**

Amy hit “Accept”, and only a minute later, the man in green started a conversation with her on the Messenger app.

_How are you doing, Amy?_

_ Very well, thank you,_ she replied.

_How’s the MK treating you?_

_ Not bad, actually. Not bad at all. You’re doing okay?_

_ You can say that. So—what brings you here?_

_ Curiosity._

_ So I’ve heard. Mario and I are staying in the hotel across from you. Is that an odd coincidence or what?_

_ Yeah. It is. _

_ Look to your left for a second. _

Amy obliged, and a taxi approached her from the opposite direction. She saw Luigi sitting in the backseat, holding his smartphone in one hand. His eyes met hers, and an enigmatic smile formed on his face. Then, he lifted his free hand in a wave, waggling his fingers, a gesture which Amy returned.

The cabs passed each other, and Amy’s cab continued driving.

_It’s so nice to meet you, Amy. I can’t wait to meet up in person._

_ Me, neither. I think we have a lot to talk about. Both of us being younger siblings and all._

_ Ditto. I’ll keep in touch._

_ Good night, Luigi._

_ Night-night._

The taxi arrived at Amy’s hotel, and the young woman paid her fare, hopped out of the cab and entered the building. She took a seat in the hotel’s restaurant, ordered a soda and a salad and pulled out her cell phone. Then, she scrolled down her speed-dial until she found her brother’s number and hit “Dial”.

“Hey, Rory,” she said when he picked up. “I think Luigi’s starting to catch on.”

“Yeah, I figured,” sighed Rory. “He’s not stupid. You’ll only be staying for a few more nights, anyway. We’ve sprung our trap for CH and Sakurai, and now we’re just finalizing things.”

“I have to agree on one thing—they _need_ to know.”

“Yes, I understand that. But you’ve got to understand that MH will break the confidence of many of his Smashers should he spill. If only there was a way we could work around that confidentiality.”

“Yeah. If only.”

“All right. Talk to you tomorrow. Love you, Sis.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

Just as Amy hung up, her salad and soda arrived, and she ordered her main course before digging in.

_If only we could get the Mario Bros in the know without MH winding up in trouble. If only…_


	23. T Plus 22 Days

Mario barely slept a wink last night. The confessions he’d heard in Sarasaland swept about his mind in a mad, surreal whirl. Adding to this maelstrom were his two heated exchanges with Master Hand, the two Steves’ attack on Luigi, those four men ganging up on him and what had gone down between him and Luigi after MH had disciplined him. This maelstrom of memories had kept him awake for most of the night, sleep coming in restless bursts. When his eyes fluttered open at around five in the morning, he felt physically and emotionally weighed down. He didn’t have the energy to drag himself out of bed, and it was as if his eyelids had gained density. The man in red was tired, so tired, and yet he couldn’t fall back asleep, as his dreams would instantly sour.

He lay on his side, staring out the window at the gray dawn. There was a gnawing pain in his head, his abdomen and the back of his throat. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks, and he could barely breathe. A gloved hand flew to his mouth to stifle the sobs. He was hurt and angry and guilty—so many people had done these f—ed up things to Luigi, and Mario should’ve done more. But he didn’t. Because he was too absorbed in being a hero and a celebrity.

_I’ve done f—ed up things to him, too. Stepping on his foot after that tennis tournament nearly eleven years ago. Secretly fuming after he defeated me in a Smash battle. Leaving him in my shadow, leaving him behind in some of my adventures. Traumatizing him after falling for the Boos’ tricks. And let’s not forget all the times I fought with him…_

Mario swallowed thickly, once again remembering the things he’d said to Luigi following his suspension. The last time they’d had that severe of a fight was way back in 1990, when torrential rainfall had kept them cooped up inside the house. Luigi had opted to curl up with his favorite book, while Mario had decided to put on his favorite record. After two straight weeks of rain, all Hell had broken loose.

_“Mario, turn that racket down! Can’t you see I’m trying to read?”_

_ “Well, I wanna listen to music! This record’s hot!”_

_ The record, melting, succumbing to the red-orange flames._

_ “There! Now, it’s even hotter!”_

_ “Hey! That was my favorite record!”_

_ “Well, it serves you right for the time you busted my favorite wrench!”_

_ Sorry to say—things quickly got physical between them. No punches were thrown, but the ensuing altercation was decidedly physical. And—more hurtful words were said._

_ “I wish I never even _had_ a brother!”_

_ “Oh, yeah? Then consider yourself _de-brotherized_! Farewell, _ex-_brother!”_

_ Mario didn’t really remember much after that. He could only guess that Luigi did his usual thing to clear his head—hitting the gym before retreating to his room to dance to his music. As for Mario, he had a punching bag set up in his room, and after pounding on it for a few hours, he’d gone for a walk. And during that walk, the Koopalings had grabbed him and delivered him to their dear King Dad, and then they’d—_experimented_ on him._

_ Of course, before the experiments, they’d gloated that they were responsible for the two-week downpour, part of their plan to flood the MK. The next thing he remembered was the pain, degradation and humiliation as he was used as their personal lab rat, culminating in them turning him into a mindless killing machine with only a helmet. His last voluntary thought had been that he’d never get the chance to mend fences with Luigi—or so he thought._

_ Because Luigi had come to save him!_

_ Those villains had armed Mario with a wrench and sicced him on his frog suit-clad brother, but by the grace of God, Luigi had broken through the brainwashing using a move he’d employed during their altercation. Somehow, the helmet had wound up on Ludwig’s head, and as soon as Mario could once again think clearly—_

_ “Hey! Are you all right, Big Bro?!”_

_ “Never better, Lil’ Bro! I see you took my advice about wearing a frog suit!”_

_ They made the now-brainwashed Ludwig chase his dad and his siblings all around the castle before holding each other close, their heated exchange all but forgotten as they exchanged apologies. Little did they know that it wouldn’t be the last time Luigi would rescue Mario, but that’s missing the point._

_ In his good-natured way, Luigi tried to take the blame for their quarrel, and Mario had also tried to take the blame, resulting in another brief scrap._

_ “Brothers,” huffed Mario once _that_ scrap had concluded. “Can’t live with them—can’t live without them.”_

_ “D—n straight, Bro,” Luigi had retorted._

_ But it all worked out in the end, as the two compromised, sharing the blame and conceding that both were in the wrong._

And they’d never gotten into it like that again.

Until a little over two weeks ago.

And Mario was still kicking himself over it.

In spite of the words that had flown between them, Luigi had met him halfway when they talked things out. He’d defended him from those four men. And don’t get him started on that battle against Koopa, when he’d—

His train of thought was interrupted when he felt the mattress dip slightly, another body settling next to his. A pair of arms tenderly wrapped around him and drew him into a hug, and Mario breathed in that familiar scent.

“Mario…” He heard Luigi murmur. “My big bro—my wonderful big bro…”

“Luigi…” he whispered.

“Hey—I’m right here. I’m with you. I’m with you…”

Mario lost it then, flinging himself onto his other side, pulling Luigi closer and sobbing into his chest, releasing everything he’d kept inside of him since this nonsense began at the end of September.

“Just let it out, Bro…” Luigi encouraged, curling himself around Mario.

And that’s just what Mario did, his body shuddering violently as he sobbed and wept until his breath was gone. His body fell limp in his brother’s arms, the sweet embrace of sleep finally claiming him, and Luigi left kisses in his hair and dropped off shortly thereafter.

Four hours later, Mario woke up, feeling a great weight lifting itself from his chest and his spirit. He gave a low hum as he snuggled up against Luigi.

“Wow,” he mused. “I really needed that.”

Luigi awakened and gazed at his bro, eyes shining. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Like I’ll get through this,” replied Mario. “Luigi, I…”

“You’re still thinking about it,” realized Luigi.

“I am. I still can’t believe that you forgave me, that you still had my back.”

“What we’re dealing with now is much worse,” said Luigi, “and I’ll always be at your side, even when we’re at odds. All in all—I’m really glad you could finally let all of that out.”

“Me, too.”

“And if you feel _that_ bad about our altercation that night, then you can buy me pizza sometime.”

“No anchovies?”

“No anchovies. My stomach will thank you.”

Mario chuckled softly. “In the meantime,” he said. “Wanna order some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

Half an hour later, the bros sat together on the bed, eating a breakfast of scrambled eggs, biscuits, bacon and chocolate chip pancakes, with chocolate milk and water to wash it all down.

“I have something to tell you,” said Luigi, “and I really shouldn’t be telling you this, on account of what we’re going through now.”

“If it involves _him_, then you _should_ tell me,” said Mario.

“Wow, first guess. Anyway—_he_ has a fan club.”

Mario nearly spluttered on his food. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. There are some people who share his twisted views. This fan club even has a website and regularly scheduled meetings.”

“How did you find out about this fan club?”

“When Falco and I were in Evershade Valley, he told me about it. He and the King had fallen into conversation, and the latter gave that bird the website URL. Yesterday, Falco browsed through it, and he warned me and the Professor. Now, I’m warning you.”

“J—s,” gasped Mario.

Luigi picked up a folded piece of paper and opened it. “He passed the URL onto us, as well,” he went on. “His plan is to infiltrate the fan club, figure out what they have planned, if anything, and then pass word along to us. It’s risky—but now I’m thinking it has to be done.” He drew a long breath. “Falco’s doing his own thing, but I don’t want you anywhere near that website. Am I clear?”

_I figured you’d say that,_ thought Mario. “Crystal,” he replied.

“Okeydokey,” said Luigi.

“Any news on the Amy front?” asked Mario.

“Let’s just say—the two of us have come to an understanding,” said Luigi, fishing a flashlight out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Observe.”

He strolled over to the window and clicked the flashlight on and off in brisk succession. As Mario watched in awe, another series of flashlight blinks appeared in the window across from them.

“Morse Code,” he breathed. “Way to go, Bro.”

“Best case scenario—we meet up tonight to settle things,” said Luigi. “I don’t feel like doing it after that turtle makes off with Peach.”

“Do what you have to do,” Mario said quietly.

“What about you and Master Hand?”

“I don’t know,” sighed Mario. “You’re willing to forgive and forget, and I guess I am, too. But…”

“You don’t have to say anymore,” said Luigi.

“He’s coughing up some black stuff, though,” mused Mario. “Is it stress-related, or is it something more sinister?”

“Part of me doesn’t want to find out,” said Luigi, “but either way—we’re in this together. Right?”

“Right. _Insieme_.”

“_Insieme_.”

**1.1.1**

In the Smash Mansion, Falco was in his room, on the phone with Gadd.

“Did you check out the website yet?”

“I did. They allowed me to view the site as a guest, but a lot of features are hidden.”

“Typical.”

“I really hope your plan works, Falco,” said Gadd.

“Oh, believe me—it will.”

“But now that I’m aware of this fan club’s existence—I know what I must do.”

“And what’s that?” asked Falco.

“In anticipation of a potentially dire situation, it’s time for me to design and invent a new Poltergust,” Gadd replied. “It’s the only solution I can think of at the moment. I was already brainstorming ideas when you told me about the fan club.”

“Luigi could use a new Poltergust in the future,” conceded Falco.

“For all I know, this fan club could be manned by ghosts—and powerful ones, at that. This club’s president—you said they go by the name H.G.?”

“Yes.”

“Why would they only go by their initials? Something’s definitely up.”

“KB confirmed that H.G. is a woman—so we know _one_ thing about her.”

“Have you seen her face?”

“No, but she communicated me when I first joined the club. Anyway, what do you have in mind for this new Poltergust?”

“I have too many ideas to list, Falco,” said Gadd, “so I leave the answer to that question to you. _What_ should I include in this new Poltergust?”

Falco started spouting out the first things that came to his mind. “Better crowd control,” he said. “You said yourself that a lot of ghosts were ganging up on Luigi during his last adventure, so he needs a feature that’ll give him breathing room. He’ll also need stronger suction power, so he can vacuum up more ghosts at a time. And more defensive tools—I don’t want more ghosts on his back than necessary. Oh, and a tether! A tether—to help him swing across chasms and the like. An improved Surge function to give him that edge over ghostly attackers. A Dark-Light Device that doesn’t overheat. More accurate Boo detection. Something to prevent ghosts from dragging him around too much.”

“All right, all right—stop!” said Gadd. “You’re on a roll there, Falco! My creative juices are flowing like you wouldn’t believe it!”

Falco heard the sounds of wild scribbling.

“What if—this new Poltergust was designed more ergonomically?” Gadd asked after a while. “I want him to maintain a steady grip on the vacuum’s nozzle. And the apparatus—it needs to be more lightweight than the previous models and grant him better freedom of movement. How about—I give the apparatus a ‘U’ shape, with a hollowed-out middle? It’ll give a more equal weight distribution and take the stress off of his back and shoulder blades.”

“You might want to relieve his shoulders, too,” Falco chimed in. “Maybe you can find a sturdy yet soft material for the shoulder straps? I want it to feel like—like it’s _hugging_ him.”

“Hugging him?”

“Yeah.”

“I was _just_ gonna say that! But there’s something else Luigi might need should another paranormal threat come his way.”

“And what’s that?”

“An extra pair of hands, of course!”

“Professor, he taught me the basics of using the Poltergust. And maybe with more lessons and practice, I’ll be kicking all kinds of paranormal [bleep] alongside him! I could be the perfect helping hand—er, wing.”

“Falco—you’re too kind. I can see that you really wanna make this up to him. But I’m thinking about someone more along the lines of—nigh indestructible.”

“An indestructible ghost-hunting partner,” said Falco. “And where will you find such a partner, may I ask?”

“Why, from my own mind, of course,” replied Gadd. “In conjunction with the new Poltergust, I’ll be developing a brand-new communications system so I can keep him in the know at all times.”

“What can be more cutting-edge than the Dual Scream?”

“I’ll figure out something sooner or later.”

“All right, Professor. My first meeting’s tomorrow. With any luck, I’ll meet the other members of the fan club in person and hopefully see this H.G. up close. And by the way—be on the lookout for her fan letters. That could also give us clues as to what this club is planning—and whether or not KB is in on it.”

“Chances are that he is,” said Gadd. “Work is calling, Falco. I gotta run. But thanks for checking in.”

“Think nothing of it. Good luck to all of us, Professor.”

“Ditto.”

“Wait—before you go—should I tell Luigi that a new Poltergust is coming his way?”

“Not yet. It’s still in the ideas stage. Besides, I want it to be a surprise. Our gift to him.”

“Hm. Makes sense. See ya round, Professor.”

“Likewise.”

Falco hung up and made a beeline for the cafeteria, hoping to get some food in his belly before the day’s matches began.

**1.1.1**

“You’re not safe here,” Remy said to Chad. “Those two troublemakers are planning something. My buddies and I—we can feel it.”

“Of course they are,” said Chad, “and they’re probably plotting against Charlie, too.”

“Charlie can certainly hold her own in a fight,” said Jimmy, “but Steve and Stevie are unpredictable. Don’t worry—we’ll keep you safe.”

“I have a man on the inside,” said Chad.

“Jeff?”

“Shh. Yes. He knows that I’ve exposed myself to danger and certain death, and he’s arranging a place for me to wait things out as we speak.”

“We’ll stay in touch with him,” said Rory. “Should anything happen, you and Charlie will be the first to know.”

“I knew I could count on you guys,” said Chad.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Charlie arrived on the scene, urgency on her face.

“Not really,” said Chad. “What’s wrong?”

“I spotted Crazy Hand with the two Steves,” reported Charlie. “I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but his conversation with them seemed—animated. He was worked up about _something_. Then, he gave them some sort of box, and that’s when I left to pass the news to you.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” said Chad.

“So—do we have a plan, or what?” asked Charlie.

“Right now, the plan is to lay low until those three are dealt with,” said Timmy.

“So, essentially—we watch helplessly from the sidelines while MH and you guys back them into a corner,” said Charlie.

Rory pursed his lips. “It appears that way,” he said.

“I think they want us to be afraid of them,” said Chad. “If we cower, then we’re playing right into their hands. But whatever. I’m sure MH knows what he’s doing.”

“He does,” said Remy.

“And when the Bros return, then CH and the two Steves will have no place to hide,” Rory confidently added.

“Until we get everything hammered out with Jeff, we’ll need to stay close at all times,” said Jimmy. “Safety in numbers, right?”

“Right,” Chad and Charlie said in unison.

“And for God’s sake—don’t draw attention to yourselves,” added Timmy.

“Of course,” said Chad.

The six retreated into Chad’s room and closed the door behind them, unaware that a sinister presence was nearby.

**1.1.1**

Today on Amy’s agenda was a trip to the Gadd Science Museum. She needed to clear her head from yesterday’s harrowing encounter with the Boos, and what better way than to check out the eccentric professor’s brainchildren? An autumn breeze blew through her hair as she rode the tour bus to the museum, disembarking at the entrance and thanking the driver and the tour guide as she went.

Amy shrugged off her jacket as she entered the museum and proceeded to the front desk. “Ticket for one, please,” she said.

“Can I interest you in one of our add-ons?” asked the ticket agent. “I recommend the Paranormal Exhibit.”

Amy smiled. “Perfect. I’ll take it.”

After paying for her ticket, Amy began her trek through the museum’s many exhibit halls. One of them depicted Gadd’s early life as a young boy afraid of ghosts, yet determined to figure out what made them so frightening. He eventually grew into a young man and a brilliant inventor, majoring in Paranormal Studies at UConn and teaching the subject at Colombia University in New York City. McCarthyism and the Red Scare blacklisted the young professor, who inadvertently discovered a portal leading to Boo Woods, where he resided for much of his adult life. You know the rest.

During her tour, Amy glimpsed the prototypes for many of Gadd’s other inventions. There were the models for what would become Stuffwell, the talking, sentient suitcase, and F.L.U.D.D., the sentient water-squirter/jetpack. It was interesting to see where these iconic inventions got their start and how technology allowed them to evolve, but what Amy was really interested in was the paranormal aspect of Gadd’s studies.

After wandering around the main exhibit halls, Amy made her way to the Paranormal Exhibit, showing her ticket/pass to the security guards manning the entrance.

“Enjoy the experience,” said the security guards before letting her in.

The Paranormal Exhibit was lit by blue and purple lights to set the mood. Right off the bat, pictures and drawings of different kinds of ghosts greeted Amy and the other museum-goers, along with brief descriptions of their characteristics. Several TVs played black-and-white and color footage of ghosts—Gadd’s actual interactions with ghosts! Amy was taken by how handsome the professor was back in the day. Tall and square-jawed, with an angular face and a head full of jet black hair, always wearing his lab coat over a suit and tie. But while he’d aged, he was still working to discover more about these spooky specters, something he’d been at for 74 years and counting!

After looking over the ghostly gallery, the museumgoers were invited to explore replicas of the Professor’s old labs. First, a replica of his old lab in the States. Second, a replica of his old lab in Boo Woods. And finally, a replica of his Bunker in Evershade Valley. Amy knew that it wouldn’t be long until the latter location gave the Professor all of the knowledge it had to offer. And when that happened, Gadd would find another haunted location to set up shop and begin his studies anew.

While in these replicas, Amy and the other museumgoers could read copies of Gadd’s actual notes, which the Professor himself had contributed. They could look at photos and hear audio recordings. They could sit in Gadd’s swivel chair and take selfies, or professional photographers could snap pictures of them for a small fee.

But most importantly, the museumgoers could relive the most important chapter of Gadd’s life—how he became the guiding light to another phasmophobe in his hour of need.

They leafed through photos of the Professor with Luigi and viewed home videos of mentor and mentee together. There were hours upon hours of footage detailing their exploits in Evershade Valley. Could the man in green be Gadd’s successor? Probably. Would the two of them wind up working together in the future? Maybe.

The _piece de resistance_ came toward the end of the tour. Arranged in a neat row down a brightly lit hallway were Gadd’s previous ghost vacuums! Amy couldn’t get enough of how big the initial models were, but the enduring characteristics were there—the red apparatus, the nozzle, a “stun” function, a flashlight function and functions for vacuuming ghosts and blowing air. The earlier models were cylindrical, as well, and they had wheels so that they could be pulled along the ground.

“Whoa…” breathed Amy as she walked through the hall of Poltergusts.

“There’s a reason why Professor Gadd is considered the pinnacle of paranormal studies,” said a voice.

Amy found herself face-to-face with a woman who appeared to be in her mid-to-late thirties.

“Hi,” she greeted.

“Hello,” said the woman. “I’m Dr. Davenport, the assistant curator.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Amy.”

The two women shook hands before gazing upon the row of Poltergusts.

“He’s a great visionary, don’t you agree?” asked Dr. Davenport.

“Yes, ma’am. I do.”

“It’s okay—you can call me Dr. D.”

“All right, Dr. D.” Indicating the first Poltergust in the row, Amy asked, “Is that—the first-ever Poltergust?”

“Indeed, it is,” replied Dr. D. “That’s the Poltergust Mk. 1.”

“How on Earth did he maneuver that thing by himself?”

“He didn’t. He had some help. Two people would move the apparatus around while the other manned the vacuum.”

Amy chuckled. “Thank God for evolving technology.”

“I know, right? The Poltergusts grew smaller and smaller, but were also more efficient and easier to control. Like this one—the Poltergust 400. She’s one of the last cylindrical-shaped Poltergusts.” Dr. D led Amy to the Poltergust in question. “You could mount her and ride her around like a scooter, but unfortunately, she could overheat. A different-shaped apparatus was required to solve that problem. Thus…” She indicated the next Poltergust over. “…the Poltergust 500, the first Poltergust to be worn like a backpack.”

The Poltergust 500 had a boxy shape, but the succeeding models had more streamlined design. Amy felt as if each Poltergust was telling her a story, and perhaps they were.

“This last one is the Poltergust 2000,” said Dr. D. “All of these vacuums are still fully functional, of course. We do maintenance on them every two weeks, because you never know.”

“No,” said Amy. “You don’t.”

“The Poltergust 3000 is still with Luigi, and it’s not our place to try to take her from him,” said Dr. D. “We know that she holds a special value for him, as she helped him save Mario.”

“And she helped him realize how brave he truly could be,” added Amy.

“Yes. Precisely,” said Dr. D. “Now, he has the Poltergust 5000, the first model to be equipped with the Surge, Strobulb and Dark-Light functions. So—whatever paranormal threat comes our way, Luigi will be ready.”

“You bet,” smiled Amy. “I really needed to see this exhibit. Yesterday, I toured Boo Woods, and the experience shook me up. They made comments about me and my brother, and I needed—I needed reassurance that there were people who’d keep us safe from them. I needed peace of mind.”

She shook Dr. D’s hand again. “Thanks for telling me a bit about these Poltergusts,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” said Dr. D, “but I have a feeling that the story is far from over.”

As if to underscore the assistant curator’s point, the exhibit’s final room was called “The Future”. There was a floor-to-ceiling photograph of Luigi with the Poltergust 3000 on his back, one hand on his hip and the other holding the nozzle over his shoulder. Next to it was a floor-to-ceiling photograph of him with the Poltergust 5000 on his back, with a similar pose. Scattered about the other walls were photos of Luigi cosplayers and people interested in the world of paranormal science. On a desk were two books filled with musings on how ordinary citizens were affected by Luigi’s actions. And on the way out was another book, with a cup of pens resting beside it, where the museumgoers could write their input, as well.

Amy and the other museumgoers proceeded into the exhibit’s gift shop, where the former purchased a t-shirt and a mug with Gadd’s face on it before walking to the museum’s food court.

**1.1.1**

Meanwhile, Falco was online, looking through the fan club website, hoping to befriend some of the other members before Friday’s get-together. He had a chat window open, hoping that someone would connect and start a conversation. Also, he browsed through various discussion forums, searching for a good place to chime in. Everything told the avian to expect the unexpected—so that’s just what he’d do.

His cell phone rang.

“Yeah?” Falco answered.

“Hi, Falco.” Luigi’s voice was softer than it was yesterday.

“L? What’s up?” asked Falco, slightly surprised.

“I wanna thank you for what you did yesterday,” Luigi explained. “I’m glad you told me and the Professor about the fan club. You did the right thing.”

“No thanks is necessary,” said Falco. “When I saw that the club was legit, I realized I had to warn you two.”

“And about my outburst—I was just so stressed,” Luigi went on. “I didn’t know what I was thinking, and so much was happening. Falco, I…”

“I know, Luigi.”

“I want you to know that I trust you on this, 100%,” said Luigi. “You’ll find a way to catch wind of this fan club’s plans before anything happens.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” said Falco.

“And—I’m sorry I exploded like that. All I was thinking about was that you were at the forefront of this plot, and you were supposed to be my friend…”

“I’m being your friend now, Luigi. I don’t want that psychopath putting his hands on you again. And I can’t thank you enough for defending me from him and teaching me how to use the Poltergust.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Luigi—where are we? In terms of our relationship?”

“I don’t know,” Luigi honestly replied. “I kept telling myself that I could handle what you confessed at the meeting, and you were nice enough to give me a preview beforehand. But the fact that you brought the Bennigan Brothers to Mr. Sakurai just—hit me, you know?”

“I don’t want our time in Evershade Valley to be for naught,” said Falco. “That’s the main thing.”

“Me, neither. Koopa’s coming for Peach tomorrow, and maybe I’ll clear my head while helping Mario rescue her.”

“And after you come back?”

“Just like you said—one day at a time,” Luigi softly replied.

Falco drew a shaky breath. “Oh, Luigi…”

An incoming video call notification cut him off.

“It’s Gadd,” murmured Falco.

“He’s calling me, too,” said Luigi. “Hold on.”

_Click._

Falco pocketed his phone and accepted the video call. Within seconds, his video feed was connected with both Luigi’s and Professor Gadd’s. The latter’s showed the image of a blue-white liquid in a beaker.

“Uh—what are we looking at?” asked Falco.

“Ghost energy,” Gadd explained. “I’ve just invented a simple, painless process by which I can extract spectral energy from ghosts. Liquid is its natural state, you see.”

“Did you get that from the Evershade Valley ghosts?” asked Luigi.

“Not to worry—they volunteered,” said Gadd. “I don’t have to extract much, anyway. Have a look-see.”

Gadd’s camera swiveled around, revealing a Greenie floating in a glass pod of sorts. They waved when the saw the camera.

“What’s the purpose of this?” asked Falco.

“I want to study the properties of ghost energies,” said Gadd, “particularly, their interactions with non-spectral and non-paranormal matter and how they’ll respond to certain stimuli. I have a feeling that my findings could help us.”

“Help us combat this fan club?” asked Luigi.

“And help us with ghost-fighting in general,” said Gadd. “An encounter with this fan club is inevitable, you two. We need to be ready.”

“Amen,” said Falco.

“I’ll stop by every two weeks so you can check on my Poltergust,” said Luigi.

“Regular maintenance is key,” said Gadd. “Luigi, my boy—I was planning on telling you this later, but since you’re here, I might as well tell you. I’m thinking about building you a new Poltergust. And hopefully, my research on ghost energies will play a role in it.”

“He told me something along those lines, too,” said Falco, “and I pitched him some ideas.”

“The Poltergust 5000 is only two years old,” said Gadd, “but with a regularly evolving threat, that technology could quickly become outdated. Facing ghosts with outdated ghost-fighting equipment is a death wish.”

“We’re taking this very seriously,” Falco put in.

“Have you found out anything new?” asked Gadd.

“I’m trying to reach out to the other fan club members,” said Falco. “Earn their trust before we properly meet tomorrow. At least try to play the part, y’know?”

“Where will they meet tomorrow?” asked Gadd.

“H.G. hasn’t said anything,” said Falco. “I’m sure she’ll tell us well in advance. And whenever I can’t physically make it, I can stream it via the website.”

“What are you gonna tell them?” asked Luigi.

“I’ll—I’ll wing something. But I promise you—they won’t suspect a thing.”

“I get that you’re doing this for me,” said Luigi, “but the idea of you attending a meeting filled with people fanatically devoted to _him_…”

“I get it. But I can handle myself. I’m a mercenary, remember?”

“All right. Just—don’t be afraid to call on me or the Professor for help, okay?”

“Okay.”

Falco checked on the fan club page—more specifically, the chat window he had open. And there…

** _NotPaulBlart has joined the conversation._ **

Perfect!

**SpaceAce: Hello, there.**

“Falco? Are you still here?” asked Gadd.

“Yeah. Just—someone joined my chat. Hold on.”

Falco muted the video call’s microphone and waited.

**NotPaulBlart: You’re the new guy?**

**SpaceAce: I am.**

**NotPaulBlart: Hey, man! Welcome to the club! We’re all happy to have you!!**

**SpaceAce: Thanks. How did you hear about him?**

**NotPaulBlart: From a friend. And you?**

**SpaceAce: Gossip.**

**NotPaulBlart: Huh. Cool. So, what do you do when you’re not thinking about our King?**

**SpaceAce: I’m a pilot.**

**NotPaulBlart: A commercial pilot?**

**SpaceAce: A fighter pilot, defending a faraway galaxy. But, I’ve been known to fly commercial aircraft.**

**NotPaulBlart: Awesome!**

**SpaceAce: What do you do?**

**NotPaulBlart: I’m a security guard.**

**SpaceAce: I could guess by your username.**

**NotPaulBlart: If you wanna get more specific, I’m the night watchman at a local strip mall in my area, and I enjoy my job.**

**SpaceAce: I enjoy my job, too. Care to give a newbie some pointers?**

**NotPaulBlart: There aren’t a lot of rules here, aside from the usual. You know—no explicit sexual material, no abusive language, all that stuff.**

**SpaceAce: Uh-huh. How long have you been a King Boo fan?**

**NotPaulBlart: Uh—a couple of years. How about you?**

**SpaceAce: Not for very long.**

**NotPaulBlart: Trust me, you’re gonna love it here.**

**SpaceAce: You seem rather certain.**

**NotPaulBlart: I’m not bluffing. Our fan club president is _so_ cool! Every week, she organizes activities for us, she gives us pointers on writing fan letters—and at the meetings, she feeds us! I have to stream most of them because of my job, but still.**

**SpaceAce: Have you seen her in person? What does she look like?**

**NotPaulBlart: We never see her during our meetings. We just hear her voice.**

**SpaceAce: Oh.**

**NotPaulBlart: I’m telling you, she’s really devoted to this fan club.**

**SpaceAce: I’ll believe it when I see it.**

**NotPaulBlart: Have you met our King in person?**

**SpaceAce: I have—not quite a week ago.**

**NotPaulBlart: So—you saw how his enemies were treating him.**

**SpaceAce: It wasn’t that bad. He gets free phone and Internet, and he gets to hang around with his fellow Boos.**

**NotPaulBlart: Yeah, only if he’s well-behaved. AND they have 24/7 surveillance on him. He’s a prisoner!**

**SpaceAce: Yeah, but he’s getting by. He told me so himself.**

**NotPaulBlart: What’s his secret?**

**SpaceAce: Well, if I told you, then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore, would it?**

**NotPaulBlart: Guess not.**

“Falco?” Luigi was saying. “Falco, come back.”

Returning to the video call, Falco unmuted his mike. “Yeah?”

“Has anyone said anything?” asked Luigi.

“I’m connected with someone now,” said Falco. “Someone with the screen name ‘NotPaulBlart’.”

“I—I didn’t expect that type of screen name for a King Boo fan,” opined Gadd.

Luigi pursed his lips. “Hey, Falco—share your screen with us,” he said softly.

Falco quickly obliged.

Silence as Gadd and Luigi looked over the avian’s chat with NotPaulBlart.

“Oh, wow,” breathed Gadd.

“They actually think he’s the victim,” Luigi added in disgust.

“Only people as warped as them would create a fan club for that psycho,” said Falco.

** _MightyMechanic has joined the conversation._ **

**MightyMechanic: Howdy, stranger.**

**SpaceAce: Howdy.**

**MightyMechanic: How are you liking it here so far?**

**SpaceAce: Can’t complain.**

**NotPaulBlart: He met the King personally.**

**MightyMechanic: Lucky you! It must’ve broken your heart, seeing him all cooped up like that.**

**SpaceAce: It did.**

**MightyMechanic: Will I see you tomorrow, space dude?**

**SpaceAce: Hopefully.**

**NotPaulBlart: He’s a pilot.**

**MightyMechanic: Oh. Then getting here won’t be a problem, will it?**

**SpaceAce: Guess not.**

**MightyMechanic: You’re all right for a first-timer. You’re all right.**

** _MaestroWolf_Am has joined the conversation._ **

“I’m getting a lot of attention now,” said Falco.

**MaestroWolf_Am: _Guten tag_, newcomer!**

**SpaceAce: Hi.**

**MaestroWolf_Am: What brings you to this wonderful fan club?**

**SpaceAce: Curiosity. I really didn’t think such a fan club was real.**

**MaestroWolf_Am: Well, it’s real as real can get.**

**SpaceAce: So—you’re a musician?**

**MaestroWolf_Am: I’m a master pianist, a composer and a conductor.**

**SpaceAce: How do you find time to kill on this website?**

**MaestroWolf_Am: My work has many flexible hours. I will upload my newest compositions onto the media library, and I invite you to check them out. I’m also on Apple Music, Amazon Music and Google Play.**

**SpaceAce: I’ll be sure to check you out.**

**MaestroWolf_Am: _Danke schoen, _my friend.**

**SpaceAce: Anytime.**

**MaestroWolf_Am: So—are you an astronaut?**

**SpaceAce: Not really. I’m an intergalactic fighter pilot.**

**NotPaulBlart: Yeah, like _Star Wars_ or something!**

**MaestroWolf_Am: Interesting. Since you’re new, I might as well tell you that our fan club president will require you to undergo an initiation ceremony tomorrow.**

**SpaceAce: Like a frat?**

**NotPaulBlart: Kinda. It won’t be that bad, though. She’ll just ask you some questions, and then you’ll get your identification card. It just needs to be official, y’know?**

**SpaceAce: Yeah, I know. Is Maestro gonna play piano for me, too?**

**MaestroWolf_Am: Don’t push your luck.**

**SpaceAce: Lol.**

**MightyMechanic: But at least you’ll get to meet everyone else!**

**SpaceAce: Yup. **

“Falco…”

The avian looked back up. Gadd and Luigi stared intently at him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” said Gadd.

“Have _you_ any better ideas?” asked Falco. “You told me that you could access the site as a guest. Are you able to stream the videos of the meetings? Or is that feature locked?”

“I _did_ have access to the media library, where videos of previous meetings are stored,” said Gadd. “A good fan club strategy is to keep it somewhat open to the public to encourage the influx of new members. As soon as I see that a new video’s been uploaded, I’ll watch it. And I’ll see if I can find out more about those other users.”

“Technically, they haven’t committed any crimes, so we can’t call the police,” said Luigi. “Freedom of expression and assembly, and all that.”

“That’s where I come in,” said Falco. “I’ll attend the meetings and play the role of a King Boo fan to perfection. And once I get watertight evidence of a plot to hurt you or your loved ones, I’ll come straight to you, and then we’ll notify the proper authorities. That way, we can stop whatever they’ve cooked up before it even starts.”

“We can stop them from breaking _him_ out, period,” said Luigi. “When I get back to the Smash Mansion, I’ll talk to MH about regularly commuting between there and Evershade Valley.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” said Falco.

“And I made it clear to Mario that under no uncertain terms will he look at that website,” added Luigi.

Gadd nodded. “That’s vintage Luigi to me,” he said.

“Falco—if you have the time, I’d love to instruct you more on how to use the Poltergust.”

“Of course I’ll have the time,” said Falco. “Better safe than sorry.”

**MightyMechanic: Hey, buddy, where’d you run off to?**

“Hold on a sec,” said Falco.

**SpaceAce: Hang on, I’m reading some emails. Brb.**

“Can’t stall them for too long,” murmured Falco. “Hey, Professor—could you see your way to making a Poltergust for yours truly? Or maybe souping up my Blaster and Arwing with some ghost-wrangling technology?”

“I’ll think about it,” replied Gadd. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Minimize the live chat window and look around one of the forums,” said Luigi.

Falco did so, clicking on the “Forums” prompt on the main menu. And the first forum on the page read “DIE LUIGI”.

“Uh…” said Falco.

Luigi paled. “Click on that first one, Falco.”

“Wait…” Gadd started to say.

But Falco had already obliged.

“H.G. started this thread,” he reported. “It says, ‘Luigi needs to suffer for what he did to our King. I want to tie him down in a dark room somewhere and cut him over and over and over with a long, sharp knife. Watch his blood slowly bubble up from his skin and trickle down his body onto the floor while he—screams—and whimpers—and hyperventilates’. My God. Look how many likes it has.”

“J—s,” said Gadd.

Luigi had a hand clapped over his mouth.

“A user named Doc_Potts replied, ‘Yeah, girlfriend. Carve him up real nice. Just save some of him for Audrey.’ Yeesh—I think we could be encountering some cannibals here—oh, wait. There’s a picture of a giant Venus flytrap—I think that’s the name of his plant. Still creeps me out, though. And there’s another user named QSerps who posted a video…”

He clicked on it, and the video showed a barely lit room. Someone held up a cell phone before placing it on the ground next to a flashlight and a water bottle. Then, someone dressed as Luigi walked into the shot, barefoot and baring their midriff and looking disheveled. The person spotted the three items and made a dash for them, only for an echoing _clink_ to sound and the person to suddenly jerk backward, a chain now attached to their ankle. Soft grunting sounded as the person struggled toward the items, and then came an ominous hissing noise, a purple cloud descending upon the area and the trapped soul desperately gasping, coughing and hacking…

Luigi was pale. “_Dio_—was that _real_?” he asked.

“I—I don’t know…”

“It _looked_ real,” said Gadd, positively sickened.

“Uh—there’s another video,” said Falco, clicking on it.

This video was uploaded by a user named The_Soul_Chef. In it, someone placed a Luigi doll in a blender, affixed the lid to the blender, plugged in the machine and then moved to press the “power” button.

“Oh, God—oh, no, no,” said Luigi. “I can’t look at that. Exit out of that, please.”

Falco did just that. Scrolling further down, he saw and then played a third video, uploaded by SeafaringHook. In _that_ one, a life-sized Luigi doll was submerged in a large body of water. There was no music, noise or anything—just the image of the doll, lying still beneath the waves.

“Okay—I can’t look at anymore of these,” said Falco, exiting out of the forum thread. “Guys—this club definitely has it out for Luigi. They want him _dead_. Those posts and videos were clear threats on his life. I _really_ need to get inside their inner circle before…”

“I know,” said Gadd. “I know.”

“Let me just…” Falco pulled his chat window back up and began to type.

**SpaceAce: Hey, you guys. You should check out what’s going on in the forum. Is that even allowed?**

**NotPaulBlart: What’s happening in the forum?**

**SpaceAce: H.G. and a few other fans are talking about doing _things_ to Luigi. Do you guys feel the same way about him?**

**MaestroWolf_Am: What things?**

**SpaceAce: Hurting him, cutting him. Stuff like that.**

**MightyMechanic: Oh. Well, can you blame us? Our King was just minding his own business until _he_ showed up.**

_To rescue his brother—to prevent anything from happening to him_! Falco wanted to type, but he had to maintain his cover.

**NotPaulBlart: Guys, lay off. He’s new here. Look, man—I know it’s intense. It was intense for me when I first joined, too. But give it some time, and you’ll get used to it.**

**SpaceAce: You’re right. I didn’t mean to offend you all.**

**MaestroWolf_Am: No offense taken. Gtg—rehearsal’s coming up.**

**SpaceAce: K bye.**

** _MaestroWolf_Am has left the conversation._ **

**MightyMechanic: Guess I’d better split, too. Cya.**

**SpaceAce: Cya.**

** _MightyMechanic has left the chat._ **

**NotPaulBlart: I have to head to work in a few hours. TTYL.**

**SpaceAce: TTYL. Nice meeting you.**

**NotPaulBlart: Ditto.**

** _NotPaulBlart_ ** ** has left the chat.**

Falco glanced back at Luigi and Gadd, and for a few minutes, neither of them spoke.

“I…” said Luigi. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Falco. I really, really hope you know what you’re doing.”

**1.1.1**

Later that afternoon, Amy strolled down the streets of the MK, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Turning a corner, she arrived at her destination, a dance studio, pushing through the doors and greeting the Toad manning the desk.

“How long?” asked the Toad.

“One hour, please.”

Amy paid the Toad in cash, and in exchange, she received a key to one of the lockers.

In the women’s locker room, she changed into dance-worthy attire, chose a locker to stash her stuff and pulled out two bottles of Gatorade. Slipping her phone and an aux cord into her pocket, she exited the locker room and headed to the studio proper, where the Toad helped her set up her music.

“I’ll let you know five minutes before time is up,” said the Toad. “Enjoy.”

Amy nodded, and once the Toad returned to the front desk, she warmed up her muscles with some stretches, turned on her music and began to dance. Three songs in, she took off her socks and shoes, the floor cool-warm against the soles of her feet. For the rest of the hour, she dropped all of her inhibitions, dancing and whirling and sweating until she heard a brisk knock and the Toad’s voice warning her that she had five minutes left.

“Someone’s using the studio once your time has expired,” said the Toad, “but if you wanna come back afterward…”

“Nah, I’m good,” said Amy, switching to a downtempo playlist for some cooldown stretches.

“Okay,” said the Toad before popping back out.

Amy finished off her first bottle of Gatorade and drained off half of her second before disconnecting her phone from the studio’s audio equipment. As she pulled her socks and shoes back on, she heard the footsteps approaching the studio.

“I’ll be out of your way in a minute,” she said without turning around.

“Take your time.”

The voice made Amy turn.

And there stood Luigi, his own duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

“Ah,” she said. “We finally meet—officially.”

“Hello, Amy,” said Luigi.

“Hi, L,” Amy said casually. “Do you come here often?”

“You can say that. And you?”

“I just needed a place to decompress,” Amy replied. She finished tying her shoes and stood up.

“Me, too,” said Luigi, and he was right. He was tightly wound following the discoveries he’d made earlier in the day and needed a release before it all got to his head.

“It feels good to move and sweat and not think,” said Amy.

“Yes,” said Luigi. “Yes, it does.”

He offered his hand to Amy, who shook it.

“And by the way,” Luigi went on, “Mario’s not planning to usurp Master Hand or anything. So, you and your brother can sleep soundly tonight.”

“That’s not what we’re worried about,” said Amy.

“Oh? Then why are MH and Rory having you follow my bro around?”

“I—I can’t explain,” said Amy. “You wouldn’t understand. Maybe when all of this is ancient history, you’ll figure it out.”

And she walked out of the room without another word.

As Amy changed back into her regular clothes, she heard Luigi getting situated and setting up his music. She knew that now wouldn’t be a good time to argue with him on the subject. Maybe in a few days, she’d tried to explain herself, but she could tell that he currently had too much on his mind.

She finished the last of her Gatorade, disposed of her trash and make sure she had everything before exiting the studio, giving the Toad a nod as she went.

**1.1.1**

Night fell over the MK, all of the buildings lit up in neon lights and energy buzzing in the air. Two younger halves of two different sibling duos were getting ready for the conclusion to their brief game of cat-and-mouse—the inevitable confrontation where truths would be laid bare.

In her hotel room, Amy jumped into a quick shower and changed clothes, sweeping her hair into a sleek bun to keep it out of her eyes. After making sure her phone was fully charged, Amy laid her telescoping baton across her lap, thoroughly examining it and finding it shiny and unblemished. With a satisfied smile, she tucked the baton into her pants pocket, along with her flashlight and a travel-sized first-aid kit. Then, she walked to her window, gazing out at the city spread out before her like a nice, frosted cake.

Her phone rang, and she ran over to answer it.

“Amy,” said MH’s voice.

“Luigi’s figured it out,” Amy said calmly. “As a matter of fact, he’s indicated an interest in _meeting_ with me regarding the subject.”

“It was bound to happen,” said MH. “He’s not stupid. And I’m glad I called when I did.”

“Are you, now?”

“Listen to me very carefully, Amy. I have the names of those who participated in Project Nerf, along with confirmation of my brother’s involvement and Sakurai’s complicity. I worked with Chad, Rory and others to lay a trap for them.”

“That’s wonderful news,” said Amy.

“It gets better. Five minutes after I hang up, Rory’s gonna email you all of the info. Save a copy to your cloud, because you may need it.”

“That way, you can plausibly deny violating the Smashers’ confidentiality,” realized Amy.

“Bingo. Those two are gonna find out sooner or later, so it might as well be sooner. But either way, Amy—you end this. Tonight.”

“Understood,” said Amy before ending the call.

Just then, a Facebook message from Luigi popped up.

_Mushroom Park, basketball court. See you there._

_ Can’t wait,_ she replied.

Dutifully, she waited five minutes before checking her email. And as MH said, Rory had sent her the attachments detailing vital information about Project Nerf. Amy slipped her phone into her purse and let out a breath. It was time.

She palmed her room key, exited her hotel room, rode the elevator down to the lobby and strode out of the hotel into the pulsing nightlife. A light skip was in her step as she walked the streets with total confidence. Tour buses still cruised along the roads, and restaurants were still open for those who wanted a late night bite. Amy practically glided past the activity around her, headed for Mushroom Park. It wasn’t difficult to find, and the trek there helped her psych herself up for the inevitable.

Under the warmly lit street lamps, Amy located the park, striding down the gray-white sidewalk toward the basketball court. She slowed her pace slightly when she saw Luigi’s figure, seated cross-legged on the floor, fiddling around with his cell phone. At her approach, he raised his head, his eyes lit up, and he smiled as he got to his feet.

“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?” she asked.

“No, you didn’t,” said Luigi, “and I appreciate that.”

He pocketed his cell phone, and Amy slung off her purse, setting it against a pole connecting one of the basketball nets.

“I take it your time in the dance studio did it’s job?” asked Amy.

“It did. I feel a bit better now, and less is weighing on my mind,” Luigi replied. “However, I still need an answer to the question I posed to you earlier. Why are you following my brother around?”

“I—we—Rory and I don’t want him to make a mistake,” Amy said quietly.

“Like what? Find out something you don’t want him to find out?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Amy patiently told him. “The situation with your nerf is getting to his head in the worst possible way, and he’s already gotten himself in trouble. We just don’t want him to get into even more trouble.”

“So—that justifies you spying on him, listening to his every conversation and then following him here when he’s trying to straighten things out.”

“Look, Luigi—we’re doing this for his own good,” said Amy.

“Really? And what good is that? An excuse to get on his case again—for your brother and his buddies to rough him up again and for Master Hand to yell at him again?”

“What Rory did that day was wrong,” Amy told him. “I can’t lie about that. And MH went a little overboard when he lashed out at Mario. But the fact of the matter remains that Mario attacked two Smashers unprovoked, engaged in a fight outside of the tournament and vandalized Master Hand’s car. What if he does something worse—something he can’t come back from?”

“Like what? Breaking the law? You think he’s that kind of person?”

“Frankly, Luigi, I don’t know what to think,” Amy replied.

“Can’t you see this situation from his eyes?” asked Luigi. “He’s witnessed a bunch of salty people jump down my throat because of my down throw, and rather than practice, they decided to whine to the higher-ups and have me nerfed. Then, after I was nerfed, they wasted no time using my matches as an excuse to relentlessly whale on me. Just as I was starting to regain my footing, two of them cornered me in the Training Room and beat me so badly that I had to go to the hospital. And by the way, those were the very two Smashers who Mario confronted the day after they attacked me!”

“Are you saying that you’re happy he beat up those two?”

“I was far from happy, because I made him promise not to get back at them, and he quickly broke that promise!” Luigi swallowed back the memories of the row that night.

“I get it, okay? The two Steves are real pieces of work,” huffed Amy, “but the way Mario’s approaching this is counterproductive. He’s asked Master Hand to betray the confidence of several Smashers, and whatever he intends to do with that information can’t be good.”

“Like I said at the dance studio, he’s not gonna stage a coup.”

“Then what _is_ he gonna do?” Amy wanted to know.

“Honestly—I have no idea. But he’s not gonna go postal on anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“You’re d—n right we’re worried about that,” Amy said, with heat. “Given what he’d done to the two Steves, to MH’s car and to my brother and his three friends when they confronted him, I wouldn’t put anything past him. And I wouldn’t put anything past _you_.”

Luigi raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

“You walked in on Mario’s confrontation with those four. You’re still upset with MH for what he said to Mario. And you’re still a bit steamed that the two Steves tried to vilify him. You’d do anything to have his back.”

“D—n straight, Amy,” Luigi said, a bit sharply, “which means that I really don’t take kindly to anyone snooping in his personal affairs. He’s been through enough as is, with so many people antagonizing him. _Someone_ has to look out for him in this cruel world.”

“_That’s_ what you’re doing right now?” challenged Amy. “Looking out for him?”

“Yeah—that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Luigi replied.

The two stared each other down, neither willing to budge an inch and both trying to do what they thought was right for their older siblings.

“It looks like the two of us have unfinished business,” Amy finally said.

Luigi nodded. “Looks that way,” he conceded.

They drilled their hard stares into each other before Amy whipped off her jacket and flung it aside. Luigi simply rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Then, Amy brandished the baton Rory had given her and pressed the button to extend it to its full length. In response, Luigi reached into his pocket and withdrew a slim, blue flashlight, which appeared to be a Maglite LED.

The two circled each other on the basketball court, their improvised weapons tight in their fists.

“There’s still time to walk away,” said Amy.

“Ladies first,” Luigi replied.

“You’re too kind,” Amy said smartly, “but you know that’s not an option.”

“Neither is it for me.”

Amy smiled tightly. “I shouldn’t have expected less.”

Luigi returned Amy’s smile with an equally tight one, and then their battle began.

Metal rang against metal—once, twice, three times—the sounds echoing throughout the park as both sought for an opening. Nerves and neurons singing with muscle memory, Amy parried Luigi’s strikes and heaved forward, sending him stumbling. He recovered his balance not long after, intercepting her returning strikes, the moonlight dancing wildly across their improvised weapons as they repeatedly clashed together. Amy slipped her baton under the Maglite and managed to get in a blow across her opponent’s stomach. Luigi doubled over with a small gasp as Amy stood there, poised and waiting. His eyes glittered with determination as he straightened, and then Amy darted forward again, bolstered over managing to penetrate his defenses. They engaged again, Luigi fighting with more finesse and caution, deflecting with the tail end of the Maglite and attacking with the head. Amy also fought methodically, the lessons Rory had given her on the subject finally paying off.

Both of their weapons were locked together. With a deft movement, Amy twisted her baton clockwise and jabbed it forward into Luigi’s left shoulder. Instantly, he reeled back, clapping one hand over the affected area. Then, he shook off the pain and charged back into the fight. The autumn air around them was brisk and a bit chilly, yet they were quickly working up a sweat as they continued to furiously go at it. Amy got in a few more strikes, but then Luigi gained a foothold and started landing blows of his own. Now, a Maglite was compact yet dense, so getting hit with it wouldn’t be an enjoyable experience. But Amy would take hits from Luigi’s improvised weapon like they were nothing at all. The man in green definitely had a tough fight ahead of him!

Dropping into a low stance, Amy now attacked her opponent’s footwork, lashing out with blows to the legs or otherwise trying to trip him. Unfortunately for her, Luigi figured things out rather quickly and used his high jumps to stay one step ahead. He timed one jump so that he landed on the baton, pinning it to the asphalt, and then went on the offensive, forcing her to briefly abandon her weapon as she dodged, dove and rolled aside. Then, she knocked the feet out from under him with a low kick, buying herself enough time to retrieve the baton. Just as he got to his feet, she lunged forward, jabbing him hard, following up with a hefty blow to his side.

Bruised, bloodied and breathing heavily, the two combatants once again circled each other on the basketball court.

“It didn’t have to pan out this way,” said Luigi.

“I know,” said Amy.

“Why can’t you, Rory and Master Hand just leave my brother in peace?”

“We did what we had to do,” huffed Amy.

“Well—that’s refreshing,” said Luigi.

“You have to believe me—I’m not the bad guy. And neither is Rory. Neither is Master Hand. There are a lot of worse people out there.”

“You don’t have to remind me,” Luigi told her.

Amy kicked off her shoes and nudged them aside. She saw Luigi bring his Maglite up to his face and did the same with her baton. They stood there, neither willing to land the next blow but also unwilling to walk away from the fight.

Simultaneously, they dashed back in, their duel heating up as the minutes passed. Dancing in, dancing out, striking, retreating, feinting, dodging. The two fought fiercely but fluidly, moving about on the balls of their feet as they attacked, defended and parried, metal continuing to sing against metal. It was a miracle that the noise didn’t attract any attention, but nobody passed through Mushroom Park at this time of night.

The battle was now in a stalemate, both fighters not giving ground despite the additional blows they’d sustained. Their improvised weapons were locked together, their arms slightly shaking with effort as they wrestled for an advantage.

“I meant what I said,” said Amy, her voice a bit strained. “Rory, Master Hand and I aren’t the enemies here.”

“Yes, well—neither is Mario,” Luigi retorted.

“You don’t have to fear us, don’t you get it?”

“And you don’t have to fear my bro! He’d never hurt anyone unless they hurt him—or me—first!”

“D—mit, Luigi, would you just listen for a minute? We’re not the ones you and Mario need to worry about. I was in Boo Woods yesterday.”

“What in the Inferno were you doing there?”

“I hoped that by touring the area, I’d gain some insight into what you’ve endured thus far. And the Boos—they were really creepy and were saying all of this stuff about you. If there’s anyone you need to look out for, it’s them, because they’re planning something!”

“They’re always planning something,” said Luigi. “They’ve always had it out for me and my bro.”

“Look—my point is that they could be plotting to break their King out of his prison. And if he ever gets out, then that’s _no bueno_!”

“You think I’m not aware of that?”

With a deft movement, Amy broke the stalemate, sending her opponent staggering. “Like I said, there are a lot of people you need to fear more than us,” she said, “and that _psycho_ is one of them.”

Luigi recovered his balance and caught his breath. “I’m glad you realized the danger, and I appreciate that you’re trying to warn me,” he said, “but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you, Rory and MH went so far as to spy on my bro when he came here to set things right.”

Amy’s face hardened. “All right, then,” she said. “Let’s finish this.”

Again, they circled each other before moving back in, blows from both sides landing everywhere. Amy even managed to land an impressive volley of hits on her opponent. She jammed one end of her baton under Luigi’s chin and briefly pinned him under one of the basketball nets, but a swift jab with his Maglite soon put an end to that.

The fight moved from one end of the basketball court to the other and back again, intensity blazing from the combatants as they kept exchanging and deflecting attacks. Their blows came harder and harder, and the sounds of gasps and grunts soon joined the clashing metal. By now, both of their faces were wet and shiny with sweat and blood, and there was hefty bruising, too. They were hot and cross and motivated by love and loyalty and devotion to their respective siblings.

With a fluid twist and a jerk, Amy sent the Maglite spinning from Luigi’s hands. It went flying, landing in the grass near the basketball court. To Amy’s extreme surprise, Luigi raised his fists, continuing the fight barehanded. Eventually, he moved in close, grappled with her, delivered several knifehand strikes to the body and managed to wrest her baton away.

They stood there, gasping for breath, their blood dripping onto the concrete, Amy’s eyes blazing defiantly at Luigi as he held her own baton on her. Slowly, he lowered it, pushed the button which caused it to retract and handed it back to her. His guard remained up as she slipped her weapon back into her pants pocket. And her guard remained up as he slowly walked over to the grass and retrieved his Maglite.

Luigi’s eyes searched Amy’s as they basked in this uneasy peace. And then he spoke.

“Wanna get something to eat?”

Amy let out a breath. “I’m starving,” she replied.

She put her shoes and jacket back on, and then she and Luigi left the park together.

**1.1.1**

They went to a 24-hour diner a few miles away from Mushroom Park, where the employees didn’t seem to notice their battered states. After the two ordered drinks, salads and appetizers, Luigi got right down to business, solemnly facing Amy.

“I didn’t just bring you here out of the kindness of my heart,” he said. “Something tells me that you have some information that Mario and I would like to know.”

Amy understood instantly. “You want proof of Crazy Hand and Mr. Sakurai’s involvement in Project Nerf,” she said calmly. Patting her purse, she added. “I have it here.”

She reached inside her purse, only for Luigi to stop her with a hand over her wrist. His body was tense, and there was bright blue electricity writhing along his other hand.

“It’s in my phone,” she explained.

“Oh, okay,” said Luigi, slowly relaxing. “Just—be careful. You could’ve sent me to the hospital with that baton of yours.”

“Same thing with your Maglite,” Amy retorted as she carefully extracted her phone from her purse, unlocked it, and opened the attachments Rory had sent her before sliding it over to Luigi.

Their drinks, salads and appetizers arrived, Luigi methodically perusing the information Amy had provided while the two ate.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Luigi asked after a while.

“Rory taught me,” Amy replied. “And you?”

“I—kinda taught myself. But Mario helped me sharpen my fighting skills.”

Amy smiled. “You should ask Master Hand to allow you to use your Maglite in a Smash Battle. You’re pretty good with that thing.”

“And you’re pretty good with a baton.”

“Rory gave me that baton, actually.”

It was Luigi’s turn to smile. “He’s really looking out for you.”

“He’s looked out for me since we were kids,” Amy said softly.

“Mario’s done the same with me,” mused Luigi.

The two locked eyes, understanding how they weren’t so different from one another.

“If you look through my photo album, then you’ll find the Rory I know,” said Amy. “The Rory who your brother encountered—made a lapse in judgement. He doesn’t do what he did unless he has a valid reason.”

Luigi took Amy up on her offer, opening Google Photos and looking through the pictures of Amy with her brother.

“He’s always been a cool big brother to me,” Amy told him, “and I just wanna return the favor.”

They ordered their main courses when a server approached them.

“But, you know, even after I’ve grown up and proven perfectly capable of handling myself, he still wants to protect me,” Amy went on. “Sometimes, he just—needs to step back.”

“I see what you’re saying,” said Luigi, “and maybe I shouldn’t judge Rory too quickly.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mario’s done questionable things, too.”

“Like beating up those two Steves and asking for confidential information?”

Luigi nodded. “And even before then, when he saw someone attacking me, he’d come at them hard. It was wrong, but to him, it would feel right.”

“I admire his restraint, actually,” said Amy. “If someone had beaten Rory bloody, then…” She didn’t finish, nor did she have to.

“Can you at least understand why Mario did it?”

“Yes. But that doesn’t mean I agree with it.”

“I didn’t, either. The two of us had words over it.”

“If I can understand why Mario did what he did, then can you understand why I agreed to spy on him for Rory and MH? Who’s to say that he won’t go off again—and my brother winds up in the crossfire?”

“Well...” Luigi indicated his injuries. “If Mario sees this, then I’ll have no choice but to tell him about our meeting in the park. But maybe—since you gave me some vital info, I can fabricate a plausible story.”

“And if Rory sees this,” Amy indicated her own wounds, “then he’ll want answers, too. If you make up a story, then I’ll make up a story. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shook hands as their main courses arrived, and then Luigi gave Amy her phone back.

“Now that we’ve met face-to-face, and we’ve had time to sit together and talk, I’ve learned some more about you, and you about me,” said Luigi. “You wanna fight for Rory, and I respect and admire that.”

“And you wanna fight for Mario, something which I respect and admire, too,” said Amy. “That’s why I wanted to warn you about the Boos.”

“He—he broke down earlier this morning,” Luigi said softly. “I just held him in my arms until he calmed down. When I found out what you were up to, all I could think was that my bro has been through enough.”

“I’ll talk to Rory and MH,” said Amy, “but you don’t need to fight them anymore. Fight the real enemies. Fight the people trying to antagonize the MK and the Princess. Fight the people who dare to mess with Mario.”

“Don’t worry,” said Luigi. “I have a friend keeping tabs on—_him_. But I see what you’re saying.”

Amy nodded. “I hope that after tonight, we can be friends,” she said.

“I hope so, too,” Luigi replied.

They toasted with their drinks before finishing their meal, switching the conversation to lighter topics. After Luigi paid the bill, he gave Amy a ride back to her hotel and saw her safely in the building before heading homeward, too.


	24. T Plus 23 Days

It was still dark outside when Peach stirred and rolled over in her bed. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand—4:37a.m. Perfect. With a quiet yawn, she sat up, stretched and slid out of bed, and then she padded into the bathroom, where she tended to her toilette and jumped into a cool shower. After styling her hair in the usual way, she slid into a pink dress—not her usual one, but a form-fitting, travel-worthy one—and applied a few sprays of perfume. Then, she gathered her things, sent a quick text to the Mario Bros and was out the door.

Meanwhile, in the Smash Mansion, Zelda was also getting ready for her day. She carefully brushed her long, brown hair before putting it in a simple ponytail. Her clothes consisted of a lavender halter-top, gray leggings and black mini-boots, with a sports watch on her right wrist. As the morning news played on low on her TV, Zelda checked around her room, making sure to conceal any evidence of her involvement in CH and the two Steves’ eventual downfall. Now that the truth about Project Nerf and the people behind it was out in the open, Hyrule’s wise Princess knew that she had to remain vigilant. Link had told her that MH, Chad and Charlie, with help from Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory, had lured CH into a trap by sending him to talk to Mr. Sakurai, engineering a confession from them both in the process. If the Hand of Destruction and the two Steves found out, then they’d unleash all kinds of fury on those they suspected had a hand in their downfall—herself included. The disastrous “free-for-all” would be a luncheon compared to whatever they’d have in store for her then.

_Best not worry about it_, thought Zelda as she completed her inspection. Anything that would put her in CH’s crosshairs was safely hidden. Letting out a breath, she took out her phone and exchanged a few texts with Link.

A car horn honked outside.

Zelda was at the window in one leap. Waiting at the Smash Mansion’s valet entrance was a pink convertible. Peach sat at the wheel, beaming at her friend.

After snatching up her dagger and rapier, Zelda exited her room, hurried downstairs and pushed through the double doors leading out of the Smash Mansion.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning,” Peach replied. “Wanna go for a spin?”

“Why not?” smiled Zelda.

She carefully laid her rapier across the backseat before hopping into the front passenger seat.

“Ready?” asked Peach once Zelda had fastened her seatbelt.

“Ready,” said Zelda.

Shifting her vehicle into drive, Peach hit the gas, and she and Zelda headed toward the open road.

Koopa was roused from his slumber, and he blearily stumbled outside just in time to witness Peach and Zelda drive off into the distance. Dorf arrived on the scene shortly thereafter.

“Hey,” said Dorf, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’ll do a better job when you’re fully awake.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” mumbled Koopa.

Peach and Zelda, meanwhile, smirked at the image of their captors in the rearview mirror as the convertible sped further away. The latter leaned back and enjoyed the ride, while the former guided the car along the winding freeway with a sure and steady hand, matching smiles on their faces. Cool morning wind blew through their hair as the first fingers of dawn stretched across the horizon.

“Wait a minute—doesn’t he pay his customary visit on Friday?” asked Zelda.

“He does,” said Peach, “but I just wanna get in some personal time before then. He usually makes his grand entrance sometime in the afternoon.”

“Are the Bros getting ready?” asked Zelda.

“They are, and I plan to meet up with them later in the morning. You know, to psych ourselves up.”

“Good plan. So—what’s on the agenda right now?”

“I was thinking about going for a relaxing drive, and then enjoying some breakfast,” said Peach.

“Sounds good to me.”

“How about some music in the meantime?”

“Why not?”

Peach turned on her radio, and pop music began wafting through the car as she and Zelda continued on their way.

They arrived in Smashville within the hour and were greeted by the smells of various breakfast foods. Villagers paused in their goings-on to say a friendly hello to each other and to the two Princesses.

“You guys looking for a good place to eat?” asked one Villager.

“Yeah,” said Peach.

The Villager hopped onto their bike. “Follow me,” he said.

He led Peach and Zelda to a 24-hour diner not far from a strip mall. An adorable little _shih tzu_ greeted them as they pulled into a parking space.

“Good morning, and welcome to Smashville!” she trilled brightly. “My name’s Isabelle, and I’m the Mayor’s assistant. You guys aren’t beating him up too badly in the tournaments, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” replied Zelda, “and quite frankly, Mr. Mayor’s really holding his own and even scaring the Underworld out of some of us. There’s something about his grin and the way he holds that axe of his…”

“Yeah, I’ve seen the ‘Killager’ memes,” sighed Isabelle, “but I assure you, he’s not like that at all.”

“Thank Nayru,” said Zelda.

“I must say, though, Isabelle, you’re doing a wonderful job as an Assist Trophy,” said Peach. “You know, Little Mac started out as an Assist Trophy before becoming a Smasher. Perhaps that could happen again.”

Isabelle blushed. “I’d like that _so_ much!” she gushed. “I may be cute, but I can definitely kick all kinds of [bleep]!”

“Yes, you can,” Peach and Zelda said in tandem.

Suddenly, Isabelle’s eyes widened. “Oh, my gosh! We’d better get you inside before that awful turtle gets here! I almost forgot what day it is!”

“No need to worry,” said Peach. “I won’t drag this town into his shenanigans.”

Zelda and Peach followed Isabelle inside the diner, where they were seated at a booth by the window. After ordering their drinks and food, the two princesses settled back.

“It’s good to see you out and about following what the two Steves did,” Peach said after a while.

“I was just about to say the same about you,” smiled Zelda. “But really, did Crazy Hand tell them to do that?”

“It’s a sure bet that they acted on CH’s orders,” said Peach. “It was supposed to be a warning—because you and Link uncovered evidence of Project Nerf, and I told Mario about those four men.”

“They could strike again,” warned Zelda. “That’s why I’ve spent the past days perfecting my sword skills. I don’t think my magic alone can hold them off.”

“I’ve practiced my fighting skills, too,” said Peach, “but—can we not talk about that? I need to decompress before—well, you know.”

“Yeah,” sighed Zelda. “So—how are the Bros doing?”

“Better, now that this Project Nerf is out in the open. How’s Link?”

“He’s also better. Toon Link, Dorf and I got him to stop beating himself up over what happened. What matters is that he fought his best.”

“So did we,” smiled Peach.

“Is Mario still…?”

“He always beats himself up when something happens to someone he holds close to his heart,” said Peach. “Like me, like Yoshi, like—like…”

“Luigi,” finished Zelda.

“Especially Luigi,” said Peach, “but I think Chad’s meeting has given him some peace of mind.”

Zelda gave a low hum of assent.

“And something tells me that he’s coming closer to obtaining the information he’s wanted all along,” Peach went on. “Proof that Mr. Sakurai and Crazy Hand were in on this nonsense.”

“What’s he gonna do with that information?” asked Zelda.

“I guess that’s what MH is worried about,” huffed Peach. “Did you hear? He sent someone to spy on Mario.”

“Yikes,” mused Zelda.

“But—Luigi met the spy, and the two of them came to an understanding,” said Peach, “so—it’s not too bad now.”

Their drinks arrived, followed by their food.

“My bet is that Mario won’t take direct action on this matter until after—this,” said Peach.

“A good trek through eight worlds is enough to clear anyone’s head,” Zelda concurred.

“But MH has a long, hard climb ahead of him,” Peach went on. “First, he went off on Mario—then, he suspended him for trying to defend himself—then, he suspended Luigi for defending his brother—then, he bought into the two Steves’ lies and went off on Mario _again_—and now _this_.” She huffed. “I can’t believe he’d do that.”

“Neither can I,” said Zelda. “Sometimes, I wonder if he really _is_ a benevolent godlike being.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey—there’s a black, swarm-like substance coming out of him lately. Do you think that’s making him so irritable?”

“Yeah, Mario told me a little about that,” said Peach. “What _is_ that stuff, anyway?”

“Whatever it is, I hear that it’s being stored in a secure area,” said Zelda, “and since MH started coughing it up recently, there’s no telling where it came from.”

“So many things have been happening this year,” mused Peach. “Roy, Mewtwo and Lucas coming back, the Smash Ballot opening, Ryu joining the tournament, the new update patch—and now Project Nerf and whatever it is that MH is coughing up. I mean, what else can come up?”

“We’d—better not answer that,” Zelda said a little nervously.

“And we shouldn’t worry about it,” said Peach, leveling a forkful of omelet into her mouth. “All that matters—is what’s happening now, and how to handle it.”

**1.1.1**

Amy had slept like a log all night, and it was almost ten in the morning when she woke up. She dragged herself out of bed and into the bathroom, where she made a face at her reflection. The bleeding had stopped, but there were still visible bruises. If Rory saw this, then he’d go ape. But going ape was within his rights as her elder brother.

Still, she didn’t want him making a bigger mess on her account.

Just as she finished washing her face, her phone rang.

“Speak of the Devil,” she murmured as she looked at the caller ID.

Amy answered with a soft, “Yeah?”

“How did it go?” asked Rory. She could feel the concern in his voice.

“Well, I’m still standing, aren’t I?” she replied. “We met up in the park last night and mixed it up for a bit. Then, he took me to a diner, where I gave him the info. He even gave me a ride back to the hotel. Listen, Rory—I don’t want this to become a cycle. Whatever this is with you and Mario—it ends now. Because we have more important things to worry about.”

A pause.

“You’re right,” Rory said finally. “Luigi has the info, anyway, and my guess is that he’ll tell Mario, and the two of them will be off our backs for the time being.”

“Thank you, Rory. And tell your friends that acts of vengeance on my account won’t be tolerated.”

“Of course. We’re not the two Steves.”

Amy laughed quietly. “Okay, better get a move-on,” she said. “You-know-who is scheduled to make his appearance, and I don’t want to wind up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Okay,” said Rory. “I was thinking that you use today as a rest day, and then tomorrow, you can come back for a quick debriefing. Then, you can head back to Seattle until everything cools down.”

“All right,” said Amy. “I just hope it won’t be permanent.”

“Don’t worry, Sis. We’ll see each other sometime.”

Amy smiled. “Remember what I said. Don’t escalate this further.”

“All right—you got me. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you soon. See ya.”

“See ya.”

Just as Amy hung up, her stomach growled. It was time to get some breakfast.

**1.1.1**

It was a usual morning inside the Smash Mansion as the Smashers prepared for their first matches. Amidst this commotion, Falco was in his room, on his bed, his laptop propped on his lap as he explored the King Boo Fan Club’s website. Since the meeting was tonight, he was expecting a message from H.G. regarding the venue. But so far—nothing.

While waiting for any updates, he dutifully participated in the discussion forums, responding to the questions H.G. posted on them. Also, he kept a chat window open, hoping to encounter more of the King’s fans. The more characters he met, the better.

His phone rang, and he answered with a brisk “Yeah?”

“Morning, Falco. Have you checked out the website?”

Falco cleared his throat. “Oh, hey, KB! Yes, I have.”

“And?”

“I just joined. Tonight will be my first meeting, where I’ll officially be initiated.”

King Boo laughed. “Falco—that’s wonderful news!”

“Yes, it is,” said Falco. “So—how’ve you been?”

“Hanging in there.”

“Has H.G. sent you more letters?”

“Yes, she has.”

“A lot of your fans are pretty hardcore, though,” mused Falco. “Some of them want Luigi to die gruesomely.”

“Of course they do, because they see the truth behind this whole mess,” said King Boo.

“But you want him in a painting. Or something like that,” said Falco. “To tell you the truth—I don’t know what you want to do to him anymore.”

“Do you want me to tell you what I’d like to do to him? What I’d _really_ like to do?”

“Well…”

“I’ll take it as a ‘yes’.” Falco swore he could hear the psychotic King grinning. “Well, first of all—I’d like to trap him. In a cold dark place, where nobody can hear him scream. Where he knows that nobody will come to his rescue. And then I’d like to do away with that loathsome vacuum, so that he’ll have no means to defend himself. I’d like him alone and helpless—and then I’ll torture and torment him. Slowly. My Boos and I will make him watch as we do away with everyone he cares about—make him listen to their screams. We’ll break him and tear him into itty bitty bits—take everything and everyone from him. We’ll make him beg for a quick death that we’ll never give. And then…” He giggled.

“J—s,” breathed Falco.

“I’m not going to fight him,” said King Boo. “I’m going to [bleep] him. And then I’m going to f—ing kill him. Slowly. Agonizingly. In every way I know he fears. He will _suffer_ in his final moments. And then I’ll spend the rest of eternity torturing his ghost.” He giggled again. “Or—if I get bored of hearing his screams and cries, which is unlikely, then I’ll shove his ghost into a painting. Either way—he’s f—ed.”

Falco almost threw up in his mouth.

“But—I’m interested in what my fans want to do with him,” King Boo coyly added.

“You mean, you haven’t checked out these videos yourself?”

“Not really. I don’t pay much attention to the website. I just use it to communicate with my lovely fan club president. But—I livestream their meetings sometimes. And I intend to livestream tonight’s, seeing that a new member is officially joining.”

“Aw—well, I’m touched,” said Falco. “I’ve gotta go now. A busy day is in store for me. But it was nice talking to you.”

“Same. Maybe we’ll have this opportunity again.”

Falco ended the call as King Boo cackled.

“What a deranged psychopath,” he muttered.

** _thehelp has joined the chat_ ** **.**

“Okay,” said Falco. “Let’s see what kind of person ‘thehelp’ is.”

**thehelp: Good morning, SpaceAce!**

**SpaceAce: Morning.**

**thehelp: Hope to see you 2nite.**

**SpaceAce: I’ll b there.**

**thehelp: I’m H.G.’s second-in-command.**

**SpaceAce: Like the fan club’s Vice-President?**

**thehelp: More like her assistant.**

**SpaceAce: Oh.**

**thehelp: May I inquire as to your day job?**

**SpaceAce: I’m a pilot and a fighting tournament participant. You?**

**thehelp: I’m a bellhop at a posh hotel. It pays the bills.**

**SpaceAce: Interesting.**

**thehelp: Do you need a tutorial on how our site works?**

**SpaceAce: Nah, I’m good. Just wondering—does everyone here want Luigi dead? Because KB wants him in a painting.**

**thehelp: Me—I’m a bit neutral at the moment, but yeah, most of the fans you’ll come across want him dead.**

**SpaceAce: Yeesh. I wish they’d take a chill pill. Being in a painting is a better end for that plumber.**

**thehelp: Like I said, I frankly don’t care what happens to him. Just as long as he’s out of our King’s way.**

**SpaceAce: Oh—kay. Fair enough.**

** _cleaninggurl has joined the chat._ **

**cleaninggurl: All right! A new member!**

**SpaceAce: Hi.**

**thehelp: He’s a pilot.**

**cleaninggurl: Sounds like fun! I’m a housekeeper, and thehelp and I are colleagues.**

**thehelp: We’re close.**

**SpaceAce: Hey, cleaninggurl. Quick question. Would you rather see Luigi in a painting or dead?**

**cleaninggurl: What kind of question is that?**

**SpaceAce: Well, a lot of fans on this site have a thing for Luigi gruesomely dying. That’s why I asked.**

**cleaninggurl: Tbh, I really can’t decide.**

**SpaceAce: Me, neither.**

**thehelp: Btw, H.G. hasn’t forgotten about tonight’s meeting. Information on the venue will be on the site within the next hour or so.**

**SpaceAce: Oh, thank God. I was just about to inquire about that.**

**cleaninggurl: You don’t wanna miss your first meeting, right? And there’s gonna be snacks, and a little meet-and-greet, and of course, your initiation. H.G. will ask you some questions, and then you’ll get some free swag. No pressure.**

**SpaceAce: You had me at free swag! Is there a dress code?**

**thehelp: No, there isn’t. But if you have a suit around, wear it.**

**SpaceAce: Will do. Hang on a sec, would you?**

Falco opened a new browser and logged into his Skype account, where he initiated a video call with Gadd.

Gadd answered on the second ring. “Falco! What’s up?” he asked.

“I’m currently chatting with two other members of that fan club. One claims to be H.G.’s assistant, and the other is a housekeeper at some hotel. I’m also about to find out the venue for tonight’s meeting.”

“Falco—you don’t have to call me whenever a fan club member initiates contact with you,” said Gadd, “but I appreciate the gesture. However, if King Boo’s recently called you…”

“He did. If you know how devious he is, then why do you give him phone privileges?”

“Because I’m a forgiving soul, and maybe bribing him with free phone service and free Internet can get him to behave.”

Falco snorted. “Fat chance! When he was talking to me, all he was doing was describing, very graphically, what he wanted to do to Luigi! You _do not_ want to let him out of there—trust me on this.”

“I won’t,” said Gadd.

**thehelp: Everything all right, SpaceAce?**

**SpaceAce: Yeah. I’m writing an email.**

“Luigi’s gonna be occupied over the next few days,” said Gadd. “Are you sure you wanna hit him with this now? We don’t want him distracted when he’s fighting that turtle. He lives for helping Mario, as I’ve seen twice already.”

“I see your point,” said Falco. “I’ll tell him about it when he gets back.”

**cleaninggurl: SpaceAce? Everything cool?**

**SpaceAce: Yeah it’s cool.**

**thehelp: That’s a pretty long email you’re writing.**

**SpaceAce: Hey, I have to make sure it’s perfect! :P**

**thehelp: Carry on, then.**

“So,” said Gadd. “I have some preliminary design ideas for the new Poltergust I was talking about.”

“Okay.”

“As I said before, I’m going for a U-shaped apparatus, but I’m also going to mount a Plexiglass tank onto it.”

“A Plexiglass tank? What for?” asked Falco.

Gadd just smiled craftily.

“Wait a minute—you can put water in that tank!” Falco suggested. “Or soda! Or Kool-Aid or Gatorade or _some_ drinkable liquid! And you can attach a long straw to the side of the vacuum, and whenever Luigi gets thirsty, he can use the straw to take a good, long drink! And maybe a compartment where he can put food like sandwiches and cookies—man, he’ll probably be set!”

“Water in the Plexiglass tank?” Gadd made a face. “I’ve done that before. With F.L.U.D.D. And while I like your idea, I think that I’ll use that Plexiglass tank for something—special.”

“Such as…?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” smiled Gadd, “and it’s also a surprise. Moving on from the apparatus, the nozzle will have a more ergonomic grip. And I was thinking about putting a handle on that nozzle. That way, he won’t have to pull back with both hands. He can have extra leverage against a ghost. I’m also working on an improved Dark-Light Device, one that doesn’t overheat from excessive use. If he’s in the middle of revealing a hidden object, I don’t want him burning his hand, right?”

“Of course not,” said Falco.

“So, let’s review,” said Gadd. “Our new Poltergust will have a U-shaped apparatus with a lightweight Plexiglass tank mounted on top of it. A handle will be attached to the nozzle for a more practical and comfortable grip. And a new Dark-Light Device will be equipped, one that can be used for a long period of time without burning Luigi’s hand.”

“Sounds good so far,” said Falco.

“Let’s talk about new features,” said Gadd. “We want Luigi to have some defensive tools. And we want him to have more powerful offensive tools.”

“Like the Surge,” said Falco. “It needs to be stronger.”

“I was thinking of something a little more—hands-on,” said Gadd.

“Hands-on? What do you mean?”

“I mean—he needs a more cathartic way to deal with ghosts. These battles need to have some more physicality to them. And this function could be used both defensively and offensively,” said Gadd.

“All right, then. What could be more cathartic than Surge?” asked Falco.

Gadd smiled hugely. “Slamming ghosts,” he replied.

A beat.

“What?” asked Falco.

“Just what I said. Slamming ghosts.”

“How can you slam a ghost?”

“Maybe—if the vacuum builds enough power, then the ghost being captured can turn into a battering ram of sorts. Luigi can slam that ghost against the floor or against any hard surface, knocking away huge chunks of HP. And as a bonus, he can also slam them into other oncoming ghosts, giving him a better advantage when it comes to crowds. And speaking of crowds—I’ve also thought of a simple, reliable method of crowd control. When too many ghosts are ganging up on Luigi, a small jet of air can knock them backward and disorient them, allowing him to escape to a more advantageous position.”

“I’m liking it so far, Professor,” said Falco.

“Most importantly, however, I wanna give Luigi a little shout-out to his occupation as a plumber. And since plumbers use plungers, I wanna incorporate that into the new Poltergust.”

“How?”

“I’m still working on that,” replied Gadd, “but an idea will come to me sooner or later. I need to let you go now, Falco. I’m currently fussing over the blueprints to the new Poltergust, and I don’t want my ideas stagnating.”

“Break a leg, Professor,” said Falco.

The two exchanged goodbyes before ending the video call.

**SpaceAce: All right, I’m back. What did I miss?**

**thehelp: Not much. H.G. just posted something about tonight’s meeting in the forum.**

**SpaceAce: K, I’ll check it out.**

Falco headed over to the discussion forum and clicked on the new post, which contained the address for the venue where the fan club would meet tonight. The avian scribbled the address onto a Post-It note, which he peeled off and stuck into the pocket of his flight jacket. Then, he returned to the chat window.

**SpaceAce: Just took the info down. I must say, though—meeting in a restaurant? That’s bound to turn some heads.**

**cleaninggurl: The restaurant will be closed to the public beforehand. And besides, the staff would willingly turn a blind eye. A large gathering like this means more revenue, after all.**

**SpaceAce: Guess you’re right.**

_I’m in no position to judge, anyway_, thought Falco. _Project Nerf met in public places, too, and nobody commented on it. Maybe that’s because the Bennigan Brothers were so good at keeping it under wraps, though._

**SpaceAce: I’ve met a lot of interesting characters on this site so far. A mechanic, a pianist and composer, a security guard—and now a bellhop and a housekeeper.**

**cleaninggurl: Stick around, and you’ll never know who else will turn up.**

**thehelp: I was *just* gonna say that.**

**cleaninggurl: Wow. We are _so_ in sync!**

**SpaceAce: Er—I’ll take your advice. Okay, gotta take my suit to the dry-cleaners. See you two 2nite!**

**thehelp: Cya!**

**cleaninggurl: Cya!**

** _SpaceAce has left the chat._ **

“How blind can these guys be?” asked Falco as he looked through his closet and selected one of his favorite suits. “Only a _nutcase_ can decide to create a fan club for someone who torments a guy for the heck of it and seals people he doesn’t like in portraits. And this H.G. is shaping up to be a grade-A nutcase.”

After dropping off his suit at the dry-cleaners, Falco headed to the Training Area. It was time to get ready for another day of Smashing.

**1.1.1**

Elsewhere in the Smash Mansion, Chad and Charlie walked into the train terminal, flanked by Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory. Charlie was dressed in travel-worthy attire, a pull-along suitcase in each hand.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come along?” asked Charlie.

“I have to take care of some things first,” said Chad.

“Jeff told us that Crazy Hand was extremely upset when he visited Mr. Sakurai,” said Remy. “He also said that he found out about the meeting. There was a spy among Daisy’s court.”

“Have you told Daisy?” asked Chad.

“Rest assured, she’s been made aware of the situation,” Timmy replied, “and Sarasaland is currently working to root out the mole.”

“Still, I’m not running away from that glove like a dirty coward,” said Chad. “I’d rather he go after me than go after Charlie. Her safety should be our top priority.”

“I’m a Smasher, Chad,” Charlie said disarmingly. “CH and the two Steves won’t get me without a fight.”

“I still don’t wanna take that risk,” Chad said softly. “Look—this is only temporary, all right? After Master Hand confronts the three once and for all, we’ll bring you back.”

“Will you keep me updated?” asked Charlie.

“Absolutely,” replied Chad.

After checking in one of her bags, Charlie sat in the waiting area with the others.

“Since it’s Friday, all travel to and from the MK is either delayed or suspended,” mused Charlie.

“It shouldn’t affect you,” Rory assured her. “Chad, while I question your decision not to accompany Charlie, my friends and I respect your choice, and we’ll protect you to the best of our ability.”

“Thank you. That means a lot,” said Chad.

“Jeff also has people looking out for Charlie,” Jimmy added. “She’ll be in good hands.”

Chad exhaled. “I hope so.”

A train employee walked into the waiting area. “All aboard! Track 39!”

Chad, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory escorted Charlie to the waiting train, where a sleeping car attendant scanned her ticket.

Charlie turned to Chad and hugged him. “Be safe,” she said, “and be careful dealing with them.”

“I will,” smiled Chad. “Good luck to both of us.”

“Say that again,” said Charlie.

The two shared a tender kiss goodbye before Charlie boarded the train, waving to the five men from the window of her sleeping compartment.

With a blow of her whistle, the train released her brakes and departed the station, Chad continuing to wave until the locomotive disappeared from sight.

“Don’t worry,” said Timmy, a hand on Chad’s shoulder. “She’ll have friends in high places looking after her.”

“That’s all that matters,” Chad said quietly.

On those words, he turned and left the terminal, Jimmy and his friends following close behind.

**1.1.1**

It was just after twelve noon in the MK, and residents and tourists alike were preparing for the Koopa King’s invasion. Tour buses ran abbreviated hours of service. Restaurants offered reduced pricing on their fare and had signs on their doors announcing that they’d briefly close following the lunch rush. Stores, malls and shopping centers also began to close, and everyone was advised to return home and shelter in place. Warehouse stores and grocery stores, however, would remain open for as long as possible as people stocked up on nonperishable food, water and batteries. Regular television and radio programming was interrupted as Peach addressed her constituents, beseeching them to remain calm and assuring them that she wouldn’t remain in distress for long.

Amy took cover in the lobby of the hotel she was staying at, sending a few reassuring texts to Rory. While the staff assured her that those airships usually headed directly for Peach’s Castle and tried to cause as little damage and casualties as possible, they encouraged their guests to remain vigilant and listen for their instructions.

Charlie’s trip to safety was also affected, as the train she was on was re-routed to accommodate those who wished to evacuate the MK. The young woman happily shared her sleeping compartment with some evacuating Toads, as it was large enough for at least six people.

In the Smash Mansion, Koopa’s airships were lined up outside, fueled and ready to go. Master Hand attempted to persuade Koopa to forego his usual excursion, but his efforts were fruitless. With a smirk, the turtle promised not to hurt anyone _too_ badly, assuring MH that Peach would receive “the royal treatment” while in his castle. The Hand of Creation could only watch as the airships took to the skies and flew off, en route to the MK. As for the Smashers, they were hard at work sending texts to Peach and the Mario Bros, and Yoshi was promptly granted emergency leave in case he wanted to assist in the upcoming rescue mission.

In the midst of all this, a family of four walked toward Peach’s Castle, bearing baking dishes covered in foil. Peach, standing at the window, saw them approach.

“Vanessa…” she said softly before heading over to personally greet the visitors.

Peach opened the door to find Vanessa, Theo, Ethan and Anna standing there, the former three bearing contrite expressions.

“Hi, guys,” she said.

“Hi, Princess,” Vanessa said softly.

“You shouldn’t be here,” said Peach.

“We made a mess of things,” acknowledged Vanessa, “and we’re not proud of it. But—we wanna make things right. With you and with your kingdom.”

“I mean—you shouldn’t be in the castle,” clarified Peach. “Koopa was nice enough to text me, letting me know that he just launched his airships. His forces are expected to arrive within the hour.”

“Well—maybe we can give you these before seeking shelter,” said Vanessa, indicating the covered baking dishes.

Peach smiled. “I’d like that,” she said.

She moved aside and led the quartet into the dining room, where Vanessa and her brood set down the dishes and uncovered them to reveal a variety of cupcakes.

“Wow,” gasped Peach. “Did you make all of those?”

“Yes,” said Vanessa. “Does anyone in your castle have any allergies?”

“No.”

“All right,” said Vanessa. “I guess we should be going.”

“Hey, Vanessa?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe—you can stay for a bite to eat?”

Vanessa beamed. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, we can.”

Within minutes, Peach, Vanessa, Theo, Anna and Ethan were seated in the castle’s courtyard, enjoying sandwiches, potato chips and soda.

“You seem pretty calm about that turtle’s upcoming visit,” observed Theo.

“I’ve gotten used to it,” said Peach. “Not to mention that these past several days have brought good fortune. Master Hand finally got Crazy Hand and Mr. Sakurai on tape, admitting what they did!”

“Really?” chirped Anna. “You gotta tell us the deets!”

“Here’s what happened,” said Peach. “The day after the meeting, MH and those four guys sent CH to Nintendo HQ on false pretenses. CH, of course, fell for it, and he panicked and ranted to Mr. Sakurai about them being found out. An inside man installed some recording devices, and Chad and Charlie found further proof of that glove’s involvement in his office.”

“What happens now?” asked Vanessa.

“Well—first, I’ll have to be rescued,” said Peach. “After that—I don’t know. Mario promised to let MH handle it, but…” She sighed. “After Mario first got suspended, Master Hand said—some things that I won’t repeat. Has anyone told you?”

“We kinda—heard about it,” said Ethan.

“However, he’s bouncing back, and so is Luigi,” smiled Peach. “After the two Steves’ failed smear campaign, I couldn’t help but notice that tension leaving him. And the most drastic change was yesterday. I believe Luigi had something to do with that.”

“But when is MH gonna confront those two?” asked Theo.

“Maybe when we get back,” Peach replied.

“Maybe,” echoed Vanessa. “No sense in rocking the boat until after that turtle’s dealt with.”

Silence as they enjoyed their food. Then—

“Princess, may I ask you a question?” queried Ethan.

“Yes, you may.”

“Do you think—Koopa has a crush on you? A lot of people at my school say that he does, and that’s why he keeps—doing this.”

“That’s an interesting question, Ethan,” said Peach, “and I’ll tell you that I’ve always suspected that the whole ‘magic’ thing was just a cover. But when that turtle took over my castle in 2001, I came across his secret diary at one point, and that’s where I got confirmation.” She shuddered. “After all these years, it still creeps me out. He just won’t take the hint that I’ll never be his queen.”

Theo grumbled in agreement.

“I mean, how many beatings from the Mario Bros is it gonna take for that turtle to get it?!” snapped Peach. “The answer is ‘no’! And how does he call what he does ‘love’? Every week, he rides in on his airships and fires upon my kingdom, disrupting my constituents’ daily life! Everything has to stop until repairs are made, and Toadsworth has to rule in my stead until I’m rescued. And each moment the Bros spend rescuing me is time that could’ve been spent fixing a toilet or a sink—you know, doing their jobs and getting some stable income! But that turtle doesn’t care about that! He doesn’t appreciate the beauty and diversity of the Mushroom Kingdom! All he wants is power, and he’ll do anything to get it! He doesn’t _love_ me—he _lusts_ after me! Yeah, I know Mario’s a bit naïve, but he’s kind and noble and athletic and resourceful—and humble. He learns from his mistakes. I’d rather be with an easygoing, selfless blue-collar worker than with a tyrannical, egotistical king!”

“Amen,” said Vanessa.

“Wait—where are the Bros now?” asked Anna.

“They’re on their way,” said Peach, “but they’re coming. They’re coming, and they’ll be ready for that turtle.”

“They need to be more alert,” said Vanessa. “What if he tries to force you to marry him?”

“He already has—thrice. First, he tried to brainwash me. Then, he tried to use my kingdom as leverage. And eight years ago—yeah, I’d rather not talk about that one. It was—traumatizing for all of us, to say the least.”

“But he might try again soon,” cautioned Vanessa. “I just—I just have a hunch, you know?”

“We’ll take it under consideration,” said Peach.

Then, she hurried the conversation toward lighter topics. “I’m wondering—have you been playing other games besides Smash?”

“We’ve started playing more _Mario_ games,” said Anna, “and we’re also playing _Splatoon_! It’s so much fun, splattering each other with paint!”

“As a matter of fact,” Ethan continued, “we met the Inklings at a convention about three months ago.”

“It was awesome!” trilled Anna.

“The two team captains were quite cordial,” added Vanessa, fishing out her cell phone and opening her photo gallery. She showed Peach a photo of her with the orange-haired Inkling Girl. “That’s Maggie. And the other team captain’s name is Mikey.” She flicked her screen to reveal a picture of her with the blue-haired Inkling Boy. “The kids, Theo and I had a ton of fun at that convention. Toward the end, we got to use their equipment, and a fake tournament was set up for us. The next Laundry Day was a nightmare, but it was worth it.”

“Totally,” Anna and Ethan said in unison.

Peach’s phone chimed, and she picked it up, huffing at the text notification. “That turtle’s 30 minutes out,” she said. “Excuse me.” She rose and stepped aside to pass the info along.

“Peachy!” a voice called out.

The family of four rose from the table, hurried over to one of the balconies and glanced down.

Mario stood there, flanked by Luigi, matching urgent expressions on their faces.

“Hey, you two!” greeted Theo.

Luigi slightly started. “Wh—what are you four doing in there?” he asked. “That turtle is a half-hour away, and we don’t want him grabbing you along with Peach!”

“We’ll be out of here before he makes landfall,” Vanessa assured him.

“We figured that Peach could use our company before being whisked off to ‘another castle’,” added Theo.

“Okay—we’re heading up there,” said Mario.

“All right,” said Theo. Turning back around, he called. “Hey, Princess—the Mario Bros are here!”

“Great—perfect,” said Peach. “I just finished sending out the alert. As we speak, everyone in the kingdom is taking shelter, and the roads have been officially closed off. The MK has completely ground to a halt, and I don’t know how long it’ll be before the wheels start turning again. I mean, I know that _some_ businesses and restaurants re-open about twenty minutes after he leaves, but…” She huffed again. “We do _not_ need this. He needs to learn how to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“Peachy?” Mario’s voice called again.

“Over here!” Peach replied.

She smiled at her heroes as they half-ran into the courtyard. “It’s all right,” she said soothingly as she hugged them.

“How’ve you guys been?” asked Theo.

“Not too bad,” Mario replied. “How about you?”

“We’re doing fine, thank you,” said Theo.

“It must’ve felt good to get all of that stuff off your chest,” Luigi chimed in.

“Indeed,” said Vanessa, “but just know—while we were allied with Koopa for the sake of Project Nerf, when it comes to this, we’ll always side with you two.”

“Thanks,” said Luigi.

“And I’m actually starting to learn how to play as you in Smash,” added Ethan.

“That’s good to know,” said Luigi. “Listen, we need to get you out of here. You really should’ve taken shelter by now. The castle’s basement is your best bet—it’s been heavily fortified to suit the occasion. There should be enough essential supplies in there to last several months, but try not to go overboard, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any reception in the basement, and if you do, then it’ll be pretty weak,” Luigi went on. “If you meet up with Toadsworth en route to the basement, then he’ll give you a battery-powered radio to take with you. Most of the radio stations will stay on air for as long as they can, but 860AM and 101.1FM will provide the most accurate updates, so I recommend that you tune into one of those stations. Once the all clear is given, head straight to Mushroom Park. It’s been a reliable place of sanction since all of this started. Further instructions will be given there.”

“Thanks, L,” said Vanessa. “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you, too,” said Luigi, “and remember—don’t panic. Stay calm and protect yourselves by any means necessary.”

“All right,” said Theo. “C’mon, kids.”

The family of four exchanged handshakes and hugs with Peach and the Bros.

“Show him no weakness,” said Vanessa. “No fear.”

“Of course,” said Peach.

On those parting words, Vanessa and her family turned and filed out of the courtyard. Peach then took a deep breath as she and her heroes steeled themselves for their adversary’s “visit”.

Theo, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna were surprisingly calm, striding through Peach’s castle as if they belong there. They watched as Toads scurried about, preparing the castle’s defenses. Whenever they came across anyone in need of assistance, the family of four paused in their flight to the basement to help them out. Royal Guards escorted other members of Peach’s royal court to safety, and they happened upon Toadsworth as he coordinated last-minute efforts to secure the castle.

“So, this is what it’s like, huh?” asked Vanessa. “I have to say, it’s something else!”

“It’s a gigantic pain in the [bleep],” said Toadsworth, “but it has its moments.”

“Mario and Luigi usually come out on top,” said Theo, “but are you anticipating a situation where Koopa wins?”

“Absolutely,” said Toadsworth. “There’s always a chance of that turtle winning. That’s why Mario prefers it if Luigi stays behind. So he can defend us from a second attack. But then again, Mario could use the help.”

“I agree,” said Vanessa.

“We always take this seriously, and we always anticipate the worst-case scenario,” said Toadsworth. “The castle’s been locked down, but you can wait it out in the basement.”

“That’s where we’re headed,” said Vanessa.

“Then you’ll need one of these,” said Toadsworth, giving the family a portable radio. “Stay informed and stay safe.”

“Thank you,” said Theo, and then he and his brood continued on their way.

While traversing a long, winding corridor, the family encountered a little Toad that could, psyching himself up.

“Hey,” greeted Theo. “First time?”

“Yeah,” nodded the Toad.

“Listen,” said Theo. “Why don’t you come with us? In these kinds of situations, anything can happen. And if you get hurt…”

But the Toad cut him off. “No way, mister!” he said vehemently. “I pledged to fight for the Mushroom Kingdom, for her Princess and for her protectors, and I _will_ fight!”

“If I may,” Vanessa said gently, “Theo and I will be holding out in the basement with our kids, and we’ll feel a little more assured with you protecting us.”

The Toad bit his lip. “All right,” he said. “I’ll defend the basement, then.”

“Great,” smiled Vanessa.

With the Toad in tow, they proceeded further down the hallway, reaching a door which opened into a stairway. The five quickly descended the spiraling staircase to the basement. And as Luigi had said, it was well-provisioned with food, water, medical supplies, batteries, first-aid kits, flashlights and toiletries. There was also a TV, a DVD player, shelves of DVDs, books, magazines, a Wii U, some 3DS consoles and plenty of video games, as well as board games. Finally, there were beds that rolled out, along with plenty of pillows and bedding. As the Toad stood watch by the door, Theo, Vanessa and the kids made themselves comfortable, rolling out and making four of the beds and getting themselves situated with some string cheese and Craisins.

They were embroiled in a game of Scrabble when the Toad got their attention.

“Koopa’s airships have been spotted,” he said. “They’re expected to reach the castle in six to nine minutes.”

“Sixty-nine minutes?” Anna and Ethan asked in unison.

“No, no, no—six _to_ nine minutes,” clarified the Toad. “You might want to turn on your radio.”

Vanessa obliged, tuning into 101.1FM. Then, the family picked up their game while keeping an ear out for updates.

However, seven minutes later, the game was halted for good by a low, muffled _boom_.

“They’re here,” said the Toad. “Turn the radio up.”

The Scrabble board was all but forgotten as Theo, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna crowded around the radio. Sounds of the unfolding invasion echoed through the basement as the radio announcer provided a minute-by-minute account in a surprisingly calm voice. Booms and thuds as cannonballs and Bullet Bills impacted the castle walls. The castle’s defenders, shouting commands. Crashing, scuffling, screaming. Two familiar voices, one strident and falsetto and the other skittish but strident nonetheless. Koopa’s booming voice, taunting and laughing. Claws slashing. Punches connecting. Yells and moans of pain. Triumphant chortling. And Peach’s dulcet voice, calling out to her heroes. Intermittently, the room trembled, but as Luigi had assured them earlier, the basement held. Besides, Vanessa and her brood weren’t afraid. They were actually—excited. And with the Mario Bros around, there was no need to be afraid.

However, Theo and Vanessa held their kids in their arms, soothing them as the commotion above them went on. And Ethan held Anna’s hand, giving her a reassuring smile.

The minutes silently passed until Vanessa’s phone rang.

“Huh,” she murmured as she pulled it out. “Three bars in a basement. Not bad.” Then, she answered the phone. “Hello? Who’s this?”

The response was a deep, hearty, rumbling chuckle. “How do you do, Vanessa?”

“What do you want, Koopa?” Vanessa asked sharply.

“C’mon—don’t get like that. I assure you—my minions and I won’t come after Anna or Ethan.”

“Very kind of you,” said Vanessa.

“Are you safe?”

“Not that you’d care, but—yes.”

“Those plumbers and I agree on _one_ thing—the less people caught in the crossfire, the better. Besides, I want to put my guest’s mind at ease, is all. That’s why I called.”

Vanessa’s heart dropped. “You have her?”

“She didn’t make it easy, and neither did those pesky plumbers—but yes. I had a hunch that you’d pay her a visit before I arrived. She’s sitting right next to me in my Clown Car. Hold on.”

A pause. Then—

“Vanessa, thank God you’re all right,” breathed Peach’s voice.

“Same here,” said Vanessa.

“I’m pretty far from okay, actually,” said Peach. “Mario, Luigi and I fought pretty hard this time, but…”

“Oh, no. What did that reptile do to them?!”

“I—he…”

“Okay, calm down. Theo and I are gonna check on them,” said Vanessa.

“No! Don’t go anywhere! Wait for the ‘all clear’!” Peach took a few deep breaths.

“Relax, Peachy,” Vanessa heard Koopa purr. “They were at least still breathing when I carried you off.”

“Koopa, I swear…” Peach started to say.

“All right, all right—where are you guys now?” asked Vanessa.

“We’re just about to leave the MK,” Peach replied. “We should arrive at the Dark Lands in about an hour or so, maybe earlier.”

“Or in thirty minutes, if we’re lucky,” Koopa chimed in.

“Peach—I want you to hang in there, all right?” intoned Vanessa. “Stay calm, and stay brave. Help will be coming soon.”

Koopa laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it,” he retorted.

“Don’t worry about me, Vanessa,” Peach said softly. “I’m stronger than you realize, and so are my people. We’ll get through this.”

“I know,” said Vanessa.

“You and your family can sleep soundly tonight,” said Koopa. “Peach will be pampered like a true Princess in my castle. If I _really_ wanted to hurt her, then don’t you think I would’ve done so already?”

“You’re unpredictable, so there’s no way of knowing,” huffed Vanessa.

“All I’m saying is that I have lines that I won’t cross when it comes to villainy, and that’s more than I can say for _some_ rogues out there.” Another chuckle. “Maybe we’ll talk more when I get back to my castle, yeah?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, Vanessa. As soon as my airships and I leave MK airspace, they’ll give the all clear. Don’t check on those plumbers until then. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

_Click._

The Toad frowned. “He knows you?” he asked.

“We, uh—we worked together on a project,” said Vanessa.

“Project Nerf?”

“That’s the one,” Vanessa said regretfully.

To her relief, the Toad didn’t judge her or her family. “No matter,” he said. “It’s water under the bridge.”

“Why—yes,” said Vanessa. “Yes, it is.”

Five minutes elapsed before the basement’s occupants heard the “all clear” from the radio. Quickly, they rose, put everything back where they found it and exited the room in a single-file line.

Throughout the castle, Toads picked themselves up, checking to see if the coast was really clear. Vanessa, Theo, Ethan, Anna and their Toad companion wasted no time helping as many as they could.

“What’s the damage?” asked Theo.

“Not much, thank God,” said one Toad.

“You guys are lucky to be alive,” said Vanessa.

“Lucky?” repeated another Toad. “We let our Princess down.”

“No, you didn’t,” Theo said gently. “You fought your hardest. And I bet the Mario Bros are on that turtle’s tail right now.”

“Yeah,” Anna chimed in.

“Wait a minute—are you her new friends?” asked a Green Toad.

“Yes,” replied Vanessa, “so you can expect to see more of us in the future.”

“We’d like that,” said a Purple Toad.

“Mario and Luigi have already left, in case you’re wondering,” said a Blue Toad.

Vanessa exhaled. “That means they’re not hurt too badly,” she said.

“I don’t know,” said a Red Toad. “They can be all sorts of stubborn. After the attack, I saw them limping a little, and they refused medical attention. Good ol’ Mario Bros—putting our Princess’s health and safety before their own.”

Ethan paled a little. “H—how bad…?”

“They left so quickly that I couldn’t tell,” said the Toad. “Toadsworth and some other retainers are contacting the nearest Toad Houses as we speak. I think those two will have to be cajoled into stopping at one of those houses.”

“Boy,” said Theo.

“And, uh…” said a Yellow Toad.

“What?” asked Vanessa.

“Mario—he—he tried to get Luigi to stay behind, but of course, the L would have none of it,” said the Yellow Toad.

“Typical,” mused Ethan.

“You guys need to head over to Mushroom Park,” said the Blue Toad. “We’ll take it from here. Thanks, though.”

“You’re welcome,” said Vanessa.

“Be careful,” said the little Toad that could. “There’s probably some debris out there.”

Theo nodded. “Take care,” he said softly before he, his wife and children headed for safer ground.

**1.1.1**

All over the MK, Toads and tourists exited their shelters to assess the damage. Luckily, property damage was minimal, and there were no fatalities. In addition, save for some cuts and bruises, no serious injuries were reported. Most of the toll from Koopa’s visit was psychological, and even _that_ was tempered by the fact that the Mario Bros were in hot pursuit of their foe at this very minute.

Slowly, they all gravitated toward Mushroom Park, where they congregated at the large marble fountain in the center. Most of them brought food and water, while others brought medical supplies. Perfect strangers asked each other if they were okay and offered help and comfort.

As soon as it was safe to do so, Amy left the hotel, joined by others who had taken cover there, and also headed to Mushroom Park. Once she arrived, she called Rory, letting him know that she was unscathed. Then, she checked on every Toad she came across, helping them gather their bearings and regroup.

Restaurant employees arrived at the park in short order, delivering burgers, burritos, pizza, sandwiches and the like for free. They were duly rewarded with tips and grateful smiles.

In between eating and tending to their injuries, Toads and tourists went to work sending texts to the Mario Bros, wishing them good luck. First, Mario thanked them, and then Luigi chimed in, offering to provide live updates on their progress. Both Bros assured everyone that they weren’t hurt too badly, but nobody was convinced, strongly encouraging them to seek out a Toad House as soon as possible.

Sitting with the shaken populace, Vanessa and her brood exchanged a look. There had to be _something_ they could do to help the imperiled Mushroom Princess. But what?

**1.1.1**

As the Mario Bros embarked on their adventure, Falco prepared to embark on his own. His suit had been picked up from the dry cleaners, and the directions to the fan club meeting’s venue had been downloaded to his phone. The sun was beginning to set as the avian jumped into a shower, washing the stink of his Smash battles away. Then, he dried himself off and carefully donned the suit, slicking back his hair and applying cologne. Finally, he gathered his things, sent a quick text to Luigi and Gadd and was out the door.

A Mii valet had Falco’s car waiting for him at the Smash Mansion’s entrance. After thanking the Mii, the avian hopped into the vehicle and drove off, carefully following his GPS’s instructions while his music played at a moderate volume.

Nearly half an hour later, he came upon the restaurant where the meeting would take place. Smoothly, he maneuvered his car into a well-lit parking space, turned off the engine and got out, making sure to lock the car as he strode toward the entrance.

At the door, Falco was greeted by a heavyset security guard, shades obscuring his eyes and a flashlight and a ring of keys strapped to his belt. His arms were folded across his chest as he stared the avian down.

“What’s your screen name?” asked the guard.

“SpaceAce,” replied Falco.

The guard fished a clipboard from the inside of his uniform jacket and used a pen to skim down the piece of paper attached to it.

“Okay—there you are,” said the guard. “Just to make sure—what’s the answer to the security question you used to register?”

Falco told him.

The guard smiled. “Excellent. Welcome to your first meeting,” he said. “I’m NotPaulBlart.”

“You’re not working tonight?” asked Falco.

“It’s my night off,” grinned NotPaulBlart. “I’ve managed to convince my boss to make Fridays my off days. So you’ll be seeing more of me.”

“Awesome,” said Falco.

He and NotPaulBlart shook hands, the former noticing a slight chill to the latter’s touch.

“C’mon inside,” said NotPaulBlart.

Falco followed the security guard into the restaurant, where several other members of the club were seated at a large table in a private room. One of them was a fellow in a bellhop uniform, another one was a guy with a distinct moustache and wearing a chef’s outfit, a third was a gentleman with slicked-back silver hair, clad in an immaculate tuxedo, and a fourth was a woman in a maid’s outfit. All of them raised their heads at Falco’s approach.

“Here he is,” said NotPaulBlart. “The new guy!”

“Hey, everyone,” greeted Falco.

Silence for a few seconds. Then—

Everyone seated at the table broke out in huge smiles as they rose to greet the avian.

The bellhop approached him first, wringing his hand. “Hi, SpaceAce,” he said. “I’m thehelp.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Falco.

After thehelp was the chef. “_Bonjour_,” he said, sporting a slight French accent.

“_Bonjour_,” replied Falco, shaking the chef’s hand. “I’m SpaceAce.”

“And I’m The_Soul_Chef. Soul, for short.”

“Ah,” said Falco. “You’re the one who wants to puree that man in green.”

Soul blushed. “You saw the video?”

“Yeah. That was—that was something else.”

Both chuckled.

The silver-haired gent approached Falco then. “SpaceAce,” he said with a slight Austrian accent. “Nice to finally meet you in person. I’m MaestroWolf_Am. Or simply Maestro, if you prefer.”

“Hey, Maestro,” said Falco as they shook hands.

The avian then turned toward the maid. “And you must be cleaninggurl,” he said.

“Indeed, I am,” replied cleaninggurl.

“Good to meet you all,” said Falco.

“Same,” said NotPaulBlart. “Please, feel free to make yourself comfortable and help yourself to some salad and breadsticks while waiting for the others to arrive.”

“Okay,” said Falco.

He washed his hands and made himself comfortable at the table, where thehelp passed a salad bowl to him. Falco piled some salad onto his plate, mixed in some of the provided dressings and toppings, and dug in.

“I made that salad,” Soul said proudly.

“It’s pretty good,” said Falco.

Soul grinned. “_Merci_,” he said.

“Wait a minute—they let you use the kitchen?” asked Falco.

“Yeah—you could say that,” laughed Soul.

“So—if there’s a piano here, then they’d let Maestro play it?”

“Probably,” Maestro replied.

NotPaulBlart glanced out the window and saw more people coming. “Excuse me, guys,” he said as he practically glided towards the door.

“You’re in luck,” cleaninggurl said to Falco. “A lot of our members are eager to meet you—officially.”

Falco turned as more members of the fan club filed in. A fellow wearing a green baseball cap, white shirt and faded denim coveralls. A diminutive man with rich red hair and a rich red beard, dressed as if for a royal ball, a crown on his head and a sword on his hip. An elderly man cradling a potted Venus flytrap in his arms. An alluring young woman, dressed like Cleopatra. And—a shark?

Interesting characters, indeed.

“Welcome,” said thehelp. “I’d like you all to meet SpaceAce.”

The man wearing the baseball cap laughed heartily. “Space dude!” he cried, practically soaring forward to hug Falco.

“Hi,” said Falco.

“Howdy-do? I’m MightyMechanic! MM, if your tongue gets too tied up!” MM spoke with a lazy Southern drawl.

“Okay, MM,” said Falco.

Regally, the diminutive redhead glided forward. Falco rose from his seat and bowed.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

The redhead laughed. “No formalities are necessary, SpaceAce,” he said in a distinct Scottish accent. “You can call me BigMac.”

“BigMac, huh? I know a guy named Little Mac,” said Falco.

“Little Mac—never heard of him. Is he a long-lost cousin of mine?”

“No—he has black hair. And he boxes.”

“You know—I’m sort of into blood sports myself,” said BigMac. “Wrestling, jousting, sword fighting—and I even participated in the tournaments I hosted!”

“SpaceAce told us that he’s in some sort of fighting tournament,” said thehelp.

BigMac laughed. “Good for you!” he said, swatting Falco on the back. “We’ll get along just fine, you and I.”

Then, BigMac moved aside, allowing the elderly man with the Venus flytrap to talk to Falco.

“Hi,” said the man. “My screen name is Doc_Potts, but you can call me Doc. I’m a certified botanist.”

“Good to meet you, Doc,” said Falco, shaking Doc’s hand. “I assume that your Venus flytrap is named Audrey?”

“Wow—first guess,” said Doc.

“I didn’t have to guess. I saw your comment in one of Hellen’s forums. You said that you wanted to—_feed_ Luigi to Audrey.”

“Hey, don’t be afraid of her. She’s quite tame.” Doc stroked the top of Audrey’s head as he spoke. “Most of the time, that is.” He smiled enigmatically.

“All right, then,” said Falco, turning toward the alluring young woman.

“I’m QSerps,” said the woman.

“SpaceAce. Nice to meet you,” said Falco, shaking her hand. “By the way, nice video you posted on the forum.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That was intense.”

QSerps shrugged. “It was that or depicting someone getting attacked by asps or having scarabs crawl all over them,” she said.

“Ew,” said Falco.

“Exactly. What you saw was actually the tamer of the three.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you hate someone _that_ much. Is that a prerequisite for being in this club—wanting Luigi dead?”

“Not that I know of,” said NotPaulBlart. “Some of us don’t care much for him, seeing that he attacked our king with that vacuum cleaner, but—some of us agree that he’s better off dead.”

_He didn’t attack King Boo. King Boo attacked him—and Mario—first!_ Falco was beside himself at how these people were twisting the story around.

The shark was the last to approach Falco. This shark had only one fin, a large, gleaming silver hook in place of the other one. One eye was blood red, while the other was concealed by an eye patch. Perched atop the shark’s head was a crimson tricorn hat.

“Ahoy there, SpaceAce,” said the shark.

“Uh—ahoy there,” said Falco.

“Welcome to the fan club,” said the shark. “I’m SeafaringHook, but you can just call me Hook. For now.”

“You’re a—talking shark,” Falco said in disbelief.

Hook laughed. “A talking _pirate_ shark is what you mean,” he said.

“Whoa,” breathed Falco. “I _also_ saw your video, and it was also intense.”

“Well—it’s hard to depict a plushie walking the plank,” said Hook, “and I didn’t want to ruin the doll by keelhauling. So I had to settle for what I could get.”

“It was still a bit unnerving,” said Falco.

“My apologies, then,” said Hook.

Falco smiled. “Apology accepted.”

“Okay, everybody—take a seat,” said thehelp. “The meeting’s about to begin.”

“Aren’t there more coming?” asked Falco.

“Everyone else is planning to stream the meeting online,” explained thehelp.

“Oh, okay,” said Falco.

He helped himself to more salad and a breadstick as thehelp, cleaninggurl and NotPaulBlart booted up a laptop and connected it to a flatscreen TV in the private dining room. Then, they logged onto the fan club’s website and set up the livestream.

As the stream came online, restaurant employees walked into the dining room, setting out hot and cold appetizers and handing out menus. The attendees quickly helped themselves to the appetizers before pondering over the menus. Falco was stunned at how similar these meetings were to the Project Nerf meetings, and he felt a shiver of déjà vu. But while he was plotting against Luigi by attending the Project Nerf meetings, he was trying to help Luigi by attending _this_ meeting.

“We’re almost ready,” said NotPaulBlart. “Just gotta wait for H.G. to connect.”

“No rush,” said QSerps.

The restaurant employees returned shortly thereafter, setting out pitchers of soda, water and other drinks on the table. Those who had finished looking over the menu placed their orders, and those who were still deciding requested more time.

About a minute after the employees departed, a pleasant female voice wafted throughout the private room.

“Hello? Can you guys hear me okay?”

“Loud and clear, H.G.!” NotPaulBlart replied.

“Yo, H.G.!” Falco chimed in.

“We’re online and ready to go,” said thehelp.

“Hey, H.G.—can you hear us?” asked cleaninggurl.

“Yup. You’re coming through okay,” said the voice.

“All right,” said cleaninggurl. “Just making sure.”

NotPaulBlart waved his hand in front of the camera. “How about the visual signal? Can you see us?”

“Hold on.” The pleasing voice seemed to come from everywhere. “Okay. All right. I can see you guys.”

“We can’t see _you_!” retorted Falco.

“We’re not supposed to see her,” whispered Maestro.

“Oh,” said Falco.

“Who said that?” asked the voice. “Is that the new guy? Which one of you is our newcomer?”

“That would be me, H.G.,” said Falco, standing up and waving. “It’s nice to finally have some face time with you—or rather, for you to have some face time with me.”

“SpaceAce, I presume?”

“In the flesh.”

“Well, it’s certainly nice to meet you, SpaceAce. Tonight, you’ll be formally inducted into my club. First, however, we’ll begin by taking roll call, starting with the attendees who are physically present. Okay—thehelp?”

“Here,” said thehelp.

“The_Soul_Chef?”

“Here.”

“NotPaulBlart?”

“Here.”

“MaestroWolf_Am?”

“Here.”

“cleaninggurl?”

“Here.”

“BigMac?”

“Here.”

“Doc_Potts?”

“Here.”

“Audrey?”

Audrey snapped her jaws.

“MightyMechanic?”

“Here.”

“QSerps?”

“Here.”

“SeafaringHook?”

“Here.”

“SpaceAce?”

“Here.”

“Perfect,” said H.G. “Now, let’s move onto those who are livestreaming this meeting. When I call your name, I want you to type ‘Here’ in the chat. Here we go—MortStudioFilms?”

A pause.

“Okay, he’s here. UgaBuga?”

Pause.

“Great, he’s here. magictrio?”

Pause.

“All right, they’re here. SwimFitDeep?”

Pause.

“He’s here. And last but not least—GloFlo?”

Pause.

“She’s here. Perfect—everyone’s here.”

H.G.’s voice laughed softly as the attendees’ entrees arrived.

“The first order of business on our agenda tonight is to get our newcomer situated. I know that you already introduced yourselves while waiting for everyone else to arrive, but now is the time to _formally_ introduce yourselves to the new arrival. Tell him your screen name and what you do. Those streaming this meeting can tell him a bit about yourselves over the chat. We’ll start with thehelp, and then we’ll work our way around the table. thehelp?”

thehelp put down his fork and made his way to the front of the table. “Hello, SpaceAce. I’m known as thehelp, and I work as a bellhop at an upscale hotel.”

“They call me The_Soul_Chef, and I’m the top chef at a high-class restaurant. Around here, you can just call me Soul.”

“I’m NotPaulBlart, and I work as a security guard at a popular strip mall.”

“I’m MaestroWolf_Am, also known as Maestro. I play the piano, compose music and conduct a symphony orchestra.”

“I’m cleaninggurl, and I’m a housekeeper at the same hotel where thehelp is employed.”

“I’m BigMac, and—believe it or not, I used to be the king of a faraway land! I spend my days trying to reclaim what was stolen from me.”

“I’m Doc_Potts, but you can just call me Doc. I’m a gardener and a botanist.”

“I’m MightyMechanic, and I guess my screen name speaks for itself. I’m a mechanic, and a d—n good one at that.”

“I’m QSerps, and—I’m an ancient history buff, especially when it comes to Ancient Egypt.”

“And I’m SeafaringHook—Hook, for short. I work as a seafood restaurant’s mascot.”

“You don’t scare kids with that red eye?” asked Falco.

“Of course not,” said Hook. “I put a contact lens over it, so that it looks like a normal eye.”

“Just wondering,” said Falco.

“All right,” said H.G.’s voice. “The fans streaming this meeting online have also introduced themselves. SpaceAce, would you like to take a look at their comments?”

Falco walked over to the laptop and scrolled down the comments section on the live stream.

“I’m not surprised that MortStudioFilms is a film director—his screen name gave me a hint,” he mused. “UgaBuga—entertains as a museum attraction. magictrio consists of a team of magicians, so—we’ve got three people using the same account. SwimFitDeep is a swimming coach, surprise, surprise. And GloFlo is a DJ at a local nightclub. Well—nice to meet you all.”

“Same here,” said H.G.’s voice. “Before we move on, could you quickly introduce yourself in kind?”

“Very well,” said Falco. “I’m SpaceAce, and I’m an intergalactic fighter pilot. In my spare time, I tinker with my aircraft and compete in a fighting tournament.”

“Good to have you aboard, SpaceAce,” cooed H.G. “Some of the other members tell me that you met our King personally. Is that true?”

“It is.”

“And he told me a little bit about you in his most recent letter,” H.G. went on.

“Okay,” said Falco. “What did he tell you?”

“Well—what you just told us.” Falco could hear the smirk in H.G.’s voice. “That the tournament you participate in is known as—Super Smash Brothers. That you always have your Blaster on hand and that you seemed to enjoy the photos he let you look at.”

“Yeah—all of that is true,” said Falco.

“And he also said that you have—history—with Luigi.”

Falco cleared his throat.

“Would you mind telling us a little about that?”

“We—we used to be friends, but we recently had a falling-out,” Falco said without missing a beat. Half of it was true, of course, but he wasn’t about to tell them that they were starting to repair their friendship. “Guess I finally saw his true colors and bailed before that toxic relationship could take me over.”

“Wow—I’m so sorry,” breathed cleaninggurl.

“I actually thought we were gonna be friends forever,” said Falco, theatrically wiping at his eyes.

“You don’t need someone like him as your friend,” said Doc. “We’re your true companions. Right, guys?”

“Right,” chorused everyone else.

“It’s funny you should say that,” said H.G., “because our King told me that you’ve been trying to make things right.”

“Really? Well, I gave up,” said Falco. “I’m trying to distance myself from him before he pulls me deeper into his web. I think he’s selfish, I think he’s a narcissist, and I think he’s ungrateful. He has a brother who loves him, but that’s not enough for him. No, he wants to be treated like an A-lister when all he does is—well, you know. And he insists that people say these nice things about him and throws a fit when someone tells him the truth. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. If he wants to seal himself in his little fantasy world, then let him.”

“Preach, buddy!” guffawed MightyMechanic.

“Well, it seems that he doesn’t get the hint,” said H.G. “Apparently there was an incident where he told our King to stay away from you.”

“I wasn’t in any danger,” said Falco. “We were just talking. But—Luigi just wanted to play hero and came bursting in with his vacuum cleaner. Yeah, I drew my Blaster on the King a few times, but I eventually warmed up to him. Or else I wouldn’t be here.”

“What of this plot to have him ‘nerfed’? What does ‘nerf’ mean? Is that a term exclusive to this Smash tournament or whatever?”

Falco briefly explained the Smash tournament’s lingo, what a “nerf” was compared to a “buff”, how several Smashers and gamers complained about Luigi’s combos and how they all banded together to manipulate the suits at Nintendo into tweaking the man in green’s playstyle so that he’d no longer have those combos.

“However—that’s all in the past,” said Falco. “I want to focus on this—just this—my new friends and my new favorite pastime. Does that sound good with you all?”

“Sounds good to me,” said Hook.

“Me, too,” said Doc.

“It’s good that you wised up,” said H.G. “Now that you’re well-acquainted with your fellow King Boo fans, it’s time for your formal initiation. I hope you’re ready, Falco.”

“H.G., I was born ready,” crowed Falco.

“Very good,” purred H.G. “I’ll start the initiation by asking you some questions. Let’s begin.”

The lights dimmed as everyone else rose from their seats and stood stock still.

“Falco, do you truly adore our King?”

“I do.”

“Do you believe that he is a wise and just King who just wants to dwell in Boo Woods peacefully?”

“I do.”

“Do you condemn Gadd Science, Inc. for intruding upon his dominion and using his constituents for their twisted experimentation?”

“I do.”

“Do you condemn the Mario Bros for snooping around his Ghost Houses without so much as a by-your-leave?”

“I do.”

“Are you willing to participate in our fan club activities, including, but not limited to, weekly meetings, online gatherings, field trips and forum discussions?”

“I am.”

“Are you willing to put forth enough effort to make our King feel comforted and appreciated during his unjust containment?”

“I am.”

“Are you willing to brainstorm ideas to break him out of said containment and share them with your fellow fan club members?”

“I am.”

“Are you willing to take your mind to places it has never been before—to push yourself into the unknown—for the sake of helping our King?”

“I am.”

“Other members—are you satisfied with his responses?”

“We are,” they all replied in unison.

“This is pretty deep for an initiation,” opined Falco. “So—do I get my identification card, or…?”

“Patience, SpaceAce,” said H.G. “We need to make sure you’re with us 100%.”

“Hey—no worries,” said Falco. “I’m with you 500%.”

H.G. chuckled. “We’ll be the judge of that. NotPaulBlart—thehelp—you know what to do.”

thehelp and NotPaulBlart joined Falco at the front of the table, where they took off the avian’s suit jacket.

“Hey! What’s all this?” Falco demanded of them.

“Sorry,” said NotPaulBlart. “It’s just part of the initiation.”

“We’re gonna need your tie and your shirt, as well,” thehelp nervously joined in.

Grumbling, Falco did as he was bidden, stripping to his waist and handing his tie and shirt to thehelp and NotPaulBlart, respectively.

“Please, have a seat,” said H.G.

Falco plunked himself onto the chair NotPaulBlart proffered, praying to God for strength and praying that Luigi would forgive him for what he was compelled to do and say.

“Falco Alphonse Lombardi,” intoned H.G. “Do you renounce Luigi?”

“Yes,” Falco forced himself to say.

“You _do_ renounce him?”

Falco nodded. “I do renounce him.”

“And all of his so-called ‘heroics’?”

“I do renounce them.”

“And all of his friends and associates?”

“I do renounce them.”

“And all of his ‘skills’?”

“I do renounce them.”

H.G. laughed in response. thehelp approached Falco, bearing a sterling silver ring with a violet gemstone shaped like the jewel on King Boo’s crown set on top of it.

“We now consecrate the bond of fealty to the one true King—the King of all Boos, the Lord of all Ghost Houses and the Master of Illusions,” said H.G. as thehelp slid the ring onto the middle of Falco’s right wing.

“No way! I get my very own ring?” gushed Falco.

“Focus,” said H.G.

“Right. Sorry,” said Falco.

“You’ve now come to the final part of your initiation,” H.G. told him, “which just so happens to be the hardest part.”

Falco then saw NotPaulBlart coming toward him, looking remorseful.

“You might wanna bite down on this,” said the night guard, holding out a moist cloth.

Falco opened his beak, and NotPaulBlart placed the moist cloth between the avian’s jaws. It tasted as if it had been dipped in Pop Rocks, or some sort of sweet-and-sour candy.

NotPaulBlart stepped behind Falco and loosely tied the avian’s wings and feet to the chair, securely enough so that he wouldn’t thrash around too much, but not tight enough to leave any marks. Falco let out a surprised grunt in response.

“It’s just a precaution,” said NotPaulBlart.

Falco’s eyes widened when he saw thehelp approach him with a metal stencil shaped like King Boo—a stencil which was glowing red-hot.

“That,” he heard H.G., “will be your identification card. Now, try to hold still, okay?”

Falco took in a deep breath, and then white-hot pain exploded as the hot stencil was pressed against his left pectoral. Pain so intense that it nearly took his breath away. The avian’s eyes watered, and he bit down harder on the moist cloth in his beak, but he didn’t cry out. He wouldn’t allow himself to.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said H.G. “I now formally welcome SpaceAce as part of the King Boo fanbase!”

The silence gave way to cheers as the other fan club members applauded Falco, some of them whistling and pumping their fists in celebration. Then, they all joined hands and chanted the avian’s screen name, softly at first, and then louder and louder and louder, Falco bearing the agony as the emblem of Luigi’s worst enemy was deeply seared into his skin.

And in the corner of his mind, Falco swore he could hear the King’s infernal, throaty cackle.


	25. T Plus 24 Days

Falco slowly rolled over in his bed as his alarm clock went off and reached a wing over to silence it. Slowly, he dragged himself out of his comfy bed and limped toward the shower, feeling awful from head to toe. The skin around his left pectoral felt tight, and the area throbbed incessantly. Pausing before a mirror, the avian grimaced at the sight of the leering King, forever branded on his chest. For a second, he wondered if infiltrating this fan club had been a good idea, but then he reminded himself that he was doing it to keep Luigi safe.

His muscles ached, the site of the imprint ached—and his heart ached from what he was forced to say last night. Having to renounce Luigi and everything even remotely associated with him wasn’t what he was expecting during his initiation. But it wasn’t completely true, right? He was just pretending, wasn’t he? Falco shook his head and stepped into the shower, turning the water to as cold as he could bear and beginning to wash the fatigue off of him. If Gadd or Luigi saw that video, then he hoped they wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

By the time Falco was done showering, the pain had mostly abated. The avian carefully dried himself off, dressed and headed to the cafeteria for breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, sausage and eggs were on the menu this morning, and Falco needed some fuel after last night’s events. After piling his plate high with everything but the eggs, he plunked himself down at a booth and ate.

“Hey.”

Falco raised his head and saw Marth, Roy and Rolf seated at a booth nearby, waving him over. Smiling a little, he grabbed his plate and utensils and sat with them.

“You look awful,” said Rolf. “What happened?”

“Long night,” said Falco. “Leave it at that.”

“Bad dreams, or…”

“Something like that,” said Falco.

“Don’t take it so hard,” said Marth. “With time, Luigi will come to forgive us—completely.”

“How did you know?” asked Falco.

“I can barely sleep nowadays,” sighed Marth. “Thinking about what we did to him makes me sick. I’m supposed to be setting an example for my people, and I was acting like a spoiled child because…” He trailed off. “Maybe they were right to exile me. I’m spoiled, selfish and naïve.”

“No, you’re not,” said Roy. “You made a mistake, but you learned from it. And not only that—you came forward and confessed.”

“The fact remains that I still participated in this mess,” said Marth. “I’ll have to live with that forever.”

“So will we,” Falco said softly.

“And, like I said before, recent events have reminded us why we were initially drawn to Luigi,” Marth went on. “Then, we became too self-absorbed to care, and we drifted apart from him. If there’s a new Smash tournament on the horizon someday, then we should do everything we can to earn back his trust.”

“Hear, hear,” said Rolf.

“Is there—any news on the rescue mission?” asked Roy, changing the subject. “Before I dropped off, Luigi texted me, saying that he and Mario are halfway through World 1.”

“I haven’t received an update yet,” said Falco. “Maybe the reception’s a little spotty.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” said Marth.

Seconds later, everyone’s phones hummed, chirped or chimed.

“Spoke too soon,” said Falco, fishing out his cell phone. “Okay, here we are. The Mario Bros cleared World 2, and they’re about to face the World 3 miniboss.” He sent Luigi a text back.

“I think we should text Peach,” Marth was saying. “That turtle never considers confiscating her phone.”

“Good idea,” said Roy, quickly firing off a text to the distressed monarch.

“Things are progressing slightly faster than last time,” observed Rolf.

“Because last time, they were still recovering from—what those four guys did,” said Marth as his thumbs flew across his phone’s keyboard. “Plus, they were blindsided. Here, they were at least prepared for the initial attack.”

Falco’s phone hummed as Luigi responded to his text. _How did the meeting go last nite?_

_ I’ll tell u when u get back,_ Falco replied. Luigi didn’t need to be thinking about such things at the moment. _Just focus on beating that turtle!_

_ And helping my bro!_

_ Of course._

“Guys, Peach just texted me back,” said Roy. “She assured us that she’s okay for the time being, but she could be lying.”

“She doesn’t want us to worry about her,” said Marth.

“But we’ve become her friends,” said Rolf. “Of course we’ll be worried about her.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t want too many people risking their lives for her,” said Falco. “Two people already doing so is bad enough.”

“That’s Peach for you,” said Marth. “Virtuous and just and selfless—just like her heroes.”

He glanced down as his phone chimed, frowning.

“What is it?” asked Roy.

“It’s—from Koopa,” said Marth.

“What does _he_ want?” huffed Falco.

“He wants me to meet him at the castle tomorrow,” said Marth.

Falco looked down as he also received an incoming text. Roy and Rolf did so, as well.

“He wants us to meet him there, too,” said Roy.

“He says—that there are some people he wants us to meet,” said Falco. “The Bennigan Bros are gonna be there, too.”

“What on Earth could he be planning that involves us?” Rolf wanted to know.

“And should we tell the Mario Bros about this?” asked Marth.

“Hey, guys,” called Dorf. “He’s not gonna trap you or anything. He’ll tell you everything when you arrive, okay?”

“Okay,” said Falco.

“He invited you, too?” asked Marth.

“Yeah.”

“How about Wario? Is he coming, too?” asked Rolf.

“You can bet on it!” crowed Wario.

“Okay—let’s—tell him we’ll be there,” said Falco. “Whatever we find out—we’ll pass it along to the Bros.”

“Good idea,” said Marth.

They were interrupted by another text from Luigi. He and Mario had beaten the World 3 miniboss after a decisive battle, and they were now continuing on their way.

“Thank God,” exhaled Roy.

“Say that again,” said Falco. “Thanks for allowing me to sit with you guys, but I really got to get a jump on the day.” He gobbled down the rest of his food. “See you guys later.”

“See ya, Falco,” said Marth.

Falco smiled at them, rose and disposed of his trash before walking out of the cafeteria.

**1.1.1**

“Good morning, my dear brother,” said Master Hand.

“Good morning,” Crazy Hand sang out. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I did,” said MH. “I meant to ask how your meeting with Sakurai went.”

CH huffed. “It was a disaster,” he replied. “He was dodgy and defensive. I thought that he’d give up information when the opportunity rose to save himself, but I guess I was wrong. For all of his faults—he’s surely a guy with a sense of loyalty.”

“That’s why good planners always have a Plan B,” MH said craftily.

“We’ll get some of the conspirators to turn on him?” asked CH.

“Something along those lines,” replied MH.

He leaned over and pressed a button on his intercom. “Bring them in,” he said.

To Crazy Hand, he added, “It’s about time those two finally get their dues, don’t you agree?”

CH nodded, a little vigorously, and MH took note of that.

Hardly a minute later, Lauren and Eden walked into the office, escorting the two Steves. They were flanked by Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory.

“Gentlemen,” greeted MH, staring hard at the two Steves. “Nice to see you again. Please, have a seat.”

Glowering at MH, the two Steves obliged.

Meanwhile, the six people who had escorted them took seats along the sides of the office.

“Do you know why you’re here?” asked MH.

“Enlighten us,” sneered Stevie.

“Don’t be a wiseacre,” warned MH. “You’re here because you have a lot to answer for. You attacked four Smashers unprovoked, to the point of landing them in the hospital. You tried to _run_ from the punishment you knew you’d face. And—you participated in a plot to manipulate me into unjustly nerfing one of my Smashers. Not to mention that you’ve bullied this Smasher long before then. In addition, another of my Smashers fears for his life because of you.”

“Chad?” scoffed Steve. “He _should_ be afraid. He betrayed us.”

“I’d like to think that he came to his senses,” MH said smartly. “Either way, I will _not_ tolerate this kind of behavior in my tournament. If you have anything you’d like to say for yourselves, then now is the time.”

The two Steves exchanged a look.

“Yes, my dear Master Hand,” purred CH. “I’d love to hear how these two plan to explain their heinous acts.” He then gave a secret wink to the two Steves.

A wink which Eden saw.

She nudged Lauren, who nodded. The little Mii in the Mario cap had seen it, too.

So had the other four.

“Well?” MH asked sweetly, addressing the two Steves.

“Well—what’s there to explain?!” snapped Stevie. “That plumber was always beating us with those godforsaken combos, and we were sick and tired of it!”

“So—instead of practicing, you chose to attempt to subvert this tournament,” MH said evenly.

“Subvert it? No,” said Steve. “Improve it? Yes.”

“We can hardly say that it’s improved,” said Lauren. “Only hours after the new patch was released, life in the tournaments for Luigi became a living Hell. You used your matches against him as an excuse to torment him. You cornered him in the Training Area and beat him bloody. You launched a smear campaign against his brother. And when three Smashers tried to help him, you attacked them, as well. So—exactly _how_ has this tournament improved?”

“At least we put that green piece of [bleep] in his place,” hissed Steve.

“Yeah!” Stevie led the charge. “And let’s not forget how Mario brutally attacked us!”

“What Mario did was wrong,” said Rory. “There’s no denying that.”

“However, I have already dealt with that matter,” said MH, “and his ‘attack’ was a scraped knee compared to what you did to Luigi. While I don’t agree with Mario’s action, I can understand why he reacted like that.”

“What we want to know is—why this animosity with you all and Luigi?” asked Eden. “He has enough on his plate to deal with as it is. The regular princess-snatchings, the Toads barely knowing him, the constant worry that…” She trailed off. Now wasn’t the time to go there.

“Worry that—what?” asked MH.

“Never mind,” said Eden. “It’s none of our concern.”

“It _is_ if it’s a threat to one of my Smashers,” said MH.

Eden heaved a sigh. “I’ll tell you later, okay?”

“Okay,” said MH, “but I’d also like to know why you’ve targeted Luigi like this. He’s done nothing to you to warrant such treatment.”

“He didn’t deserve those combos,” growled Steve. “He’s nothing but a green loser who’s scared of everything except the air he breathes! He’s a self-centered a—hole who demands attention, and if we had our way, then he wouldn’t be in this tournament at all!”

“A lot of people would beg to differ,” said Lauren.

“We shouldn’t have lost to him!” yelled Steve. “He’s Player Two, God—mit! He had some b—s, stealing the victory from us time and time again!”

“Wow,” Eden huffed in disgust.

“If anything, he brought this on himself,” Stevie chimed in. “We had good reason for what we were doing, and that’s the truth!”

“You and the truth, sitting in Master Hand’s office, trying not to squirm,” said Chad as he bravely strode into the room, the two Steves’ eyes widening in disbelief. “I live in the presence of great truth. And _that_ is the truth that you left behind in the Training Area, when you chose to cold-bloodedly and viciously attack Luigi!”

“Wh—what is he doing here?” Steve wanted to know.

“I’m here to see justice done,” Chad smartly replied. “Master Hand, are you aware that Steve and Stevie tried to attack me the day after the new update patch went into effect? I was able to handily defend myself, but if Eden hadn’t shown up, then things would’ve gotten ugly.”

MH stared hard at the two Steves. “Is that true?” he asked.

“Uh—we—he…” stammered Stevie.

“Are you also aware that they attacked me again the day after that when I was relaxing in my room?” Chad went on. “On _that_ occasion, it _did_ get ugly, as I was robbed of my ability to defend myself.” He raised his head and stared defiantly at the Hand of Destruction. “Isn’t that right, Crazy Hand?”

CH was blindsided. “What?” he asked.

“What?” Chad parroted in a slightly high-pitched voice. “You mean to tell me that you’ve forgotten? You wanted me to go to Shane’s housewarming party, remember? I didn’t feel like it, so you and the two Steves _persuaded_ me. And that’s not the only thing you persuaded me to do, oh, no. You wanted to keep me as your little lapdog, so you retained evidence of my involvement in Project Nerf to hold over my head.”

MH blinked. “Now why—would he do that?” he asked innocently. Swinging his gaze over to CH, he added, “Is it because he was in on Project Nerf all along?”

“What are you talking about?” asked CH, slightly panicked.

“There’s no use trying to play innocent, dear brother,” purred MH. “We have invoices from various hotels, reservations which you paid for throughout last month. We have receipts from the restaurants the conspirators dined at, in which you footed the bill. We have records of ACH deposits and checks that _you_ sent. And—there’s your meeting with Mr. Sakurai.”

“You were spying on me?” CH asked incredulously.

“I wouldn’t call it spying, but don’t you find it strange that I sent you to talk to him? Thanks to some helpful anonymous tips, I began to theorize that Mr. Sakurai was either aware of the plot or participated in it. By sending you to Nintendo HQ under the guise of confronting him about it, I figured that you’d panic over being found out. I was able to record the intimate conversation between you two. And while you were distracted, we were able to dig up additional evidence. Why you’d plot against one of your own Smashers is beyond me.”

CH spluttered. “It’s—it’s my nature, okay?” he managed to reply. “I’m the Hand of _Destruction_, for God’s sake! I get a thrill out of chaos!”

“It would seem so,” MH said calmly, “because you manipulated Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory into attacking Mario, which caused him and Luigi even more grief. And it was you who dispatched the two Steves to attack Link, Zelda and Peach during their free-for-all. Care to explain why? Is it because they unearthed evidence against you? Is it because Peach tried to warn the man she loved of an impending attack?”

“Is it all of the above?” Chad chimed in.

“I—I can explain…” CH started to say.

“Don’t bother—we know what you’re gonna say,” eyerolled Chad. “You’re gonna make it seem like the two Steves threatened you, which is why you hid them away in the aftermath. But we know everything now. And yes—I held a meeting in Sarasaland, leading most of the conspirators in confessing everything to Luigi and his loved ones. They were more or less willing to forgive us for what we’ve done, but I highly doubt that they’ll forgive _you_.” Narrowing his eyes, Chad leaned toward Crazy Hand and added, “You’ve lost your leverage over me. I’m not your lapdog anymore. And there’s no way in Hell I’m participating in your—Operation Ballot Box!”

“Operation _what_?” breathed MH.

“Oh? He’s not told you?” asked Chad. “Crazy Hand has big plans for the Smash Ballot. Particularly—for someone _not_ to win the Ballot.”

Lauren and Eden exchanged horrified looks. “Daisy,” they breathed in unison.

“Bingo,” said Chad.

MH cast a piercing gaze toward CH. “You planned to tamper with my Smash Ballot—just to get to Luigi?” he asked.

“Why should she be in Smash?” CH practically squealed. “She’s whiny and obnoxious and abrasive…”

“And she deserves as much of a chance as the other suggestions coming my way,” MH said sternly.

“Please, don’t hate me,” murmured CH.

MH sighed. “I don’t hate you,” he said. “You’re my brother, and I love you. But I’m disappointed in you. I’ve trusted you to help me organize this tournament since Melee, and you go behind my back to do something like this.”

“I had good reason,” CH said hotly.

“There’s never a good reason to target a Smasher for the sake of chaos,” intoned MH.

With a flick of his fingers, he enclosed CH in a sphere, cancelling out the latter’s powers. “I’ll decide your punishment after Mario, Luigi and Peach return. Until then, however, you’ll be detained in your own office. If you behave and admit responsibility, I _might_ keep you on as assistant master-of-ceremonies. But we’ll just have to see.”

CH said nothing as Timmy and Jimmy led him out.

“What shall we do with them?” asked Rory, indicating the two Steves.

“They’ll remain detained in their rooms,” said MH. “Make sure security on them is tighter than ever before.”

“You got it,” said Eden as she and Lauren hauled the two men to their feet.

Steve and Stevie glared hatefully at Chad, but the New Englander stared them down.

“You and Crazy Hand no longer have power over me,” said Chad, “and I’m not afraid of you.”

The two Steves bowed their heads, for they knew that Chad was right.

Without another word, Eden and Lauren escorted the two Steves back to their rooms as Remy and Rory followed close behind. Chad exhaled as he watched them go.

“It’s not over yet, though,” warned MH.

“It isn’t,” conceded Chad, “but at least it’s the beginning of the end.”

**1.1.1**

In his room, Falco gently pressed an ice pack against the brand on his chest, breathing through the pain as it throbbed in time with his heartbeat. However, the ice pack soon did its job, the pain gradually dulling. Sighing in relief, Falco wrapped a bandage around the mark, and then he pulled his shirt back on over it, followed by his flight jacket. The bandage was specially designed for sports and strenuous activity, so it wouldn’t chafe too badly. Besides, he didn’t need his “identification card” giving him problems when he was trying to fight somebody.

With his TV on mute, Falco sat at his desk and booted up his laptop. Almost instantly, he logged onto the fan club website and browsed through the chat forums. Whenever he saw new activity on these forums, he made sure to join in. As always, he opened a chat window and kept it active as he explored the site, waiting for someone to join in.

The avian jumped slightly at video call notification chime, but then he composed himself and answered the incoming call.

It was Professor Gadd.

“Professor,” greeted Falco. “Hi.”

“Good morning,” Gadd said crisply.

“Uh—listen, Professor,” said Falco. “I don’t know if you saw the video of last night’s meeting yet, but if you did, I just want you to know…”

“I get it,” Gadd broke in. “You did and said what you had to, in order to maintain your cover. Didn’t stop it from smarting, though. You’re lucky that Luigi hasn’t seen it—at least, I _think_ he hasn’t.”

“I don’t think he has, either,” said Falco. “Last I checked, he and Mario are halfway through World 3.” He leaned back, hands crossed behind his head. “So—to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“First, I wanted to check on you and see if you were okay,” Gadd replied, “and second—I hoped to show you these.” He turned the camera toward several sheets of schematics.

“Uh—define ‘these’,” said Falco.

“Why—the blueprints for the new Poltergust, of course!” Gadd said brightly. “Here’s my early vision for it.”

“Very nice,” mused Falco as he looked over the schematics.

This new Poltergust was shaping up to be even more innovative than the current 5000 model. It had a U-shaped apparatus with a tank mounted on top, easily adjustable and flexible-looking straps with silver buckles on them, and a nozzle/wand component that appeared more ergonomic. The flashlight had several small ridges along its body, and the vacuum had a lever of sorts about an inch or so away from the Strobulb button. Towards the end of the nozzle was a trigger-like component. The last schematic showed the accompanying Dark-Light Device.

“Drawing it is the easy part,” said Gadd. “Making it is harder—but isn’t that the beauty of science and invention?”

“It is,” replied Falco.

“Would you like a quick rundown on what does what?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Okay, here we go,” said Gadd. “I’ve decided that this lever will control the vacuum. I think that pulling back on a lever will be less taxing on Luigi’s fingers than holding down a trigger all the time. This lever will have a rubber grip, so if his hand starts sweating, his fingers won’t slip. The material I have in mind will also absorb his sweat, so it won’t get all slimy and gross and smelly. Of course, the red button activates the Strobulb.”

“What about that red thing further down?” asked Falco.

“That—will trigger a to-be-determined projectile function,” explained Gadd. “It’ll come in handy when the heat gets too much for him.”

“You said something about a jet of air,” said Falco. “Where are the controls for that?”

“It will be located somewhere on the apparatus,” Gadd told him.

Falco whistled. “This is shaping up to be the Poltergust of his dreams,” he mused.

“No doubt,” laughed Gadd.

Falco glanced down at an incoming text.

“Okay,” he said. “The Bros have stopped at a Toad House. They’re getting ready to fight the boss of World 3. Does—Luigi text you during these missions?”

“Infrequently,” replied Gadd. “His last text was before the fight with the World 3 miniboss.”

“Should I update him on the new Poltergust?” asked Falco.

“Be careful. We don’t want him getting his hopes up too high. And maybe—wait until later. He needs to focus on this. Just this.”

“All right,” said Falco.

He texted Luigi back, _How’re u holding up?_

_ Doing OK_, Luigi replied.

_Prof says hello_, wrote Falco.

_Tell him to hold on. I’ll text him as soon as I can._

_ K._

Falco pocketed his phone. “A word about the nozzle,” he said. “Don’t make it too long. If Luigi trips over it during a heated battle, then that’s _no bueno_.”

“I was _just_ gonna say that,” said Gadd.

Falco’s attention was diverted by a notification on the website.

** _H.G. wants to chat with you._ **

“Wow. What does _she_ want?” muttered Falco as he clicked “Accept”.

Gadd frowned. “Falco?” he asked. “Is everything all right?”

“Uh—yeah—yeah,” murmured Falco. “It’s the fan club president. She invited me to chat with her.”

“And are you?”

“I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” Falco retorted.

Gadd bit his lip. “Share you screen with me,” he said.

Falco obliged.

“I need to find out who she is,” Gadd said in a low voice. “Why she’s obsessed with King Boo. Why she made this fan club. Our best bet is to go after the root of the problem.”

**H.G.: Morning, SpaceAce!**

**SpaceAce: Morning, H.G.**

**H.G.: Just wanted to see how you’re doing.**

**SpaceAce: I’ll live.**

**H.G.: You were a bit out of it last night.**

**SpaceAce: Just trying to adjust to my new ID card.**

**H.G.: Apologies for that. It’s a rite of passage for all new members.**

**SpaceAce: Understandable. Thanks for checking up on me. I really appreciate the concern.**

**H.G.: You’re welcome. Also, heads-up on our next meeting. It will be held at 5p.m. instead of the usual 7p.m. We’re going on a field trip immediately after.**

**SpaceAce: Oh, yeah. Where to?**

**H.G.: The annual JuBoolee in Boo Woods. They’re celebrating the 60th anniversary of our King’s coronation.**

**SpaceAce: Sounds like fun! I’ve always wanted to go to a JuBoolee.**

**H.G.: Same here.**

**SpaceAce: Are we carpooling, or…?**

**H.G.: My darling assistant, thehelp, has agreed to provide transportation. I also recommend that you buddy up with somebody.**

**SpaceAce: Will do.**

**H.G.: Before I go, I also want to tell you that you may physically interact with your fellow members outside of our meetings. However, you can’t discuss anything related to our King.**

**SpaceAce: That’s understandable. Thanks for the info.**

**H.G.: Not a problem. Cya next week!**

**SpaceAce: Yeah, cya. Well, I won’t actually _see_ you, but y’know.**

**H.G.: ** **😉**

** _H.G. has left the chat._ **

Falco looked back up at Gadd, who was a little pale.

“She’s bringing that fan club to Boo Woods,” gasped the eccentric professor. “They could meet up with the Boos and—dear Lord! Falco—are you going?”

“I would explore a haunted mansion myself if it meant unearthing intel to keep Luigi safe,” said Falco.

“Then I’m going to the JuBoolee as well,” resolved Gadd.

“They know you,” cautioned Falco. “You’ve lived there for most of your adult life.”

“I’ll take my chances, thank you,” said Gadd. “Do you know what could happen if H.G. and her fan club make contact with the Boos?”

“Of course,” replied Falco. “They could get together and try to break _him_ out.”

“And do you honestly think I’ll just sit there and let that happen?” Gadd hotly challenged.

“No, you won’t,” said Falco. “But—we can’t be seen together, or this whole thing will be blown out of the water.”

Gadd nodded. “Be careful next week, yeah?”

“_You_ be careful,” Falco shot back.

He started at another notification. “A new video’s been posted,” he said.

“Click on it,” said Gadd.

The avian clicked on the “Videos” tab and quickly found the newest offering, which was titled “here he is”.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” said Falco.

“Just—click on it,” said Gadd.

Falco hovered his cursor over the video, unsure.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he heard Gadd pound on his desk. “For God’s sake, man, click the blasted link!” snapped the professor.

“Okay, okay!” Falco snapped back, clicking on the video and maximizing it to full screen.

The video began to play, showing the interior of a room Falco had never seen before. On the lower right-hand corner were the words “Cam A”, indicating that this was some sort of camera footage.

“What in the world…?” muttered Gadd. “What _is_ that?”

“I wish I knew,” replied Falco.

This room was brightly lit and brightly colored, containing a couch and a flat-screen TV with a coffee table in between them. Various snacks sat on the coffee table, from chips to Oreos. Looking closer, Falco could see a movie of sorts playing on the TV.

As Falco and Gadd watched, the video then switched to “Cam B”, and what they saw made their hearts stop cold in their chests.

There was Mario, seated on a bed, stripped to the waist and covered in bruises, a Toad tending to him. His cap was off his head and laying next to him on the mattress. The man in red looked pained and p—ed off, not to mention exhausted. Had they been going all night? Did they even stop to sleep?

“Oh, my God,” breathed Falco. “That’s—that’s one of the Toad Houses.”

“They’re just—watching him,” added Gadd. “Watching both of them at this very second. And they’re not even aware.”

“I gotta warn them,” said Falco, whipping out his phone.

“Wait,” said Gadd.

Falco hesitated.

“The video—it’s showing a new camera view,” said Gadd.

Sure enough, Falco and Gadd were watching footage from “Cam C”. And there—

—there was Luigi.

He was also stripped to the waist, eyes closed, dancing to the music playing around him. Bruises also peppered him, but he seemed not to be bothered by them. Gadd and Falco could barely move or breathe as they watched Luigi rock, dip and sway his upper body to and fro, hips swiveling and shimmying, a strange smile on his face. Strands of hair were stuck to his forehead, and his cap was slightly askew. He had no idea that a bunch of people who idolized his archnemesis was currently watching him dance.

And then the camera slowly zoomed in on his upper body, bringing every last pore and muscle into focus, until only the area from his collarbone to his hips was in view, save for brief flashes of his chin, lips and moustache.

“Who is doing this?” Gadd demanded of nobody in particular.

“Are they gonna do this at every Toad House they stop at?” asked Falco.

The two could hear Luigi’s increasingly labored breathing along with the music in the room. They saw his shoulders flex and roll. They saw the sweat collecting on his skin, the droplets leaving dark trails on his skin. Several droplets even splashed onto the camera lens.

“All right,” said Gadd. “All right—I think I’ve seen enough. Get out of there, please.”

Falco exited full-screen mode and saw that several members have commented on the video. Many of them left heart emojis, smiley-face emojis, wink emojis and even yum-face emojis. The avian decided to leave a comment of his own, settling for a laconic “Nice”.

“Who uploaded that video?” asked Gadd in a softer tone.

“Not one of the members I met last night,” said Falco. “Looks like the uploader was someone named—KBoo2U. H.G. made no mention of that person last night. Maybe they’re an admin or something.”

“Maybe they are,” echoed Gadd.

“Should I—ask them about KBoo2U?” asked Falco.

“It’s _your_ infiltration,” Gadd told him. “Proceed in however a way you see fit.”

“Eh—I’ll ask them about it later,” said Falco. “I need to take a look-see at my schedule for today.”

“Uh-oh,” Gadd said suddenly.

“What is it?” asked Falco.

“The video—go back to full-screen for a second.”

Falco did so, and he noticed that the scene had changed. Luigi was now on a recliner, breathing heavily, chest heaving, sopped with sweat. Another Toad was at his side, armed with a first-aid kit. Falco’s guess was that the Toad finally convinced Luigi to have his own injuries looked at. Gently, this Toad dabbed at Luigi’s skin with a sweat towel before treating his bruises with a cold compress and ointment. The man in green stared straight ahead, his eyes bright, the camera beginning to zoom in on his face. Falco saw restlessness and determination in Luigi’s facial expression, and the sight of him made the avian’s heart skip a beat.

“Look at him,” mused Gadd. “He’s bruised up, and yet he wants to get right back in the game.”

“For Mario,” said Falco. “Luigi—he must’ve had the Toads tend to Mario first.”

“Putting others before himself, as always,” said Gadd. “It’s one of his best qualities—and also one of his main flaws. Such a trait could be the death of him if he isn’t careful.”

Falco nodded distractedly, speaking up only when the video ended. “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“If only,” said Gadd. “If only Luigi had _someone_ to help him should he have to strap on the Poltergust once more. Someone who’d always have his back, someone who’d save him if he fell into ghostly traps. Someone who’d make sure he didn’t overexert himself. Because when it comes to protecting people, Luigi all-but neglects himself. In 2001, I had to _order_ him back into the lab on several occasions, and two years ago, I made it a point to recall him to the Bunker at certain intervals. But maybe if he had a _companion_…”

“Me,” offered Falco. “Once I’ve mastered enough ghost-wrangling skills, of course. And Polterpup. He loves Luigi to death, and he won’t stand by idly as ghosts try to hurt him.”

“I know the two of you will help him out, but I was thinking along the lines of a—_personalized assistant_. H.G. has an assistant, right? Well, maybe Luigi should have a ghost-hunting assistant, too. Even the playing field.”

Falco chuckled. “Good luck putting _that_ in a want ad,” he said.

“I don’t plan to hire one, Falco,” clarified Gadd. “I plan to _create_ one. And I know just the starting point.”

“Which is…?”

“The ghost energies I’ve been studying! Once I’ve completed my research and experimentation, I’ll use those energies to create Luigi’s very own companion! They’ll be inseparable! Joined at the hip!”

“You mean that this—companion—will be sentient?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” said Gadd, “and I need to concentrate on one thing at a time. I’ll finish the new Poltergust first, and then I’ll start on a ghost-hunting companion.”

“Very well,” said Falco. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Gadd nodded. “Good luck with your future endeavors, Falco,” he said.

“Good luck to both of us,” added Falco.

They exchanged goodbyes before ending the call, and then Falco logged out of the fan club website before heading off to check his matchup schedule.

**1.1.1**

“Welcome back, Amy!” Rory exclaimed as his sister dashed into his arms. “Thank God you’re all right!”

“It’s good to _be_ back,” Amy replied as the two hugged.

Brother and sister separated, the former taking in the fading bruises on the latter’s face.

“Hey,” said Amy. “It’s okay. I gave just as good as I got.”

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you did,” said Rory. “I still wish I was there, though.”

“You were,” Amy assured him, indicating her baton, “in spirit.”

Rory couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Just—don’t hurt him,” said Amy. “That’s all I ask of you.”

“Of course,” said Rory.

He slung an arm around her shoulders and led her to Master Hand’s office for her debriefing.

Once Amy was situated with a tuna salad sandwich, some potato chips and a glass of Kool Aid, she told Master Hand, Jimmy, Timmy, Rory and Remy about her adventures in the MK.

“For the first few days, I kept tabs on Mario, as instructed. He went to Peach’s Castle to smooth things over with the Toads, and I can safely say that he won their trust back. In the days between the meeting in the castle and the 30th anniversary of Peach’s first rescue, he laid low, and I was able to enjoy a few tourist attractions. As you recall, he agreed to let bygones be bygones for my sake, seeing that he also has a younger sibling. The day after the meeting, I toured Boo Woods, hoping to gain some perspective, and let me tell you, I gained more perspective than what I bargained for. Later that night, Luigi friended me on Facebook, and we exchanged a few messages. The two of us crossed paths the next afternoon at a dance studio, after I toured the Gadd Science Museum. That night, after Rory emailed me the information Mario wanted all along, the two of us—settled things—in Mushroom Park. And then Luigi treated me to a late night meal, where I told him everything. He even gave me a ride home when all was said and done.”

Jimmy exhaled. “We’re glad _that_ drama is over,” he said. “While you were gone, we managed to ensnare Crazy Hand and Mr. Sakurai in our trap.”

“So I heard,” said Amy.

“I sent my dear brother to meet with our financier regarding ‘rumors’ about the new update patch,” explained MH. “Our inside man, Jeff, recorded their conversation. And earlier this morning, I finally confronted him about it—along with the two Steves. Chad helped out toward the end, telling the three of them off for bullying him. However, I had Charlie sent away for her own safety. Once all of the perpetrators are properly dealt with, she can come back. I wish Chad had accompanied her, but I must admit it was satisfying to see him stand up to those three.”

“What happens now?” asked Amy. “Is CH out? Are the two Steves out?”

“My brother will remain in his office for the time being,” replied MH, “and I’m keeping the two Steves in their rooms. I’d like to wait until the Mario Bros return with Peach, so they, along with Link and Zelda, can have their chance to confront those three. I’ll consider allowing my brother to keep his position if he cooperates. As for the two Steves—we’ll just have to see.”

MH’s phone buzzed. The Hand of Creation paused to read the incoming text. “Okay. Mario and Luigi have just beaten the World 3 boss, and they’re taking a short break before venturing into World 4,” he said.

He texted them back before leaning back in his chair. “One of these days, I’m gonna cobble something together which will help them on their journey,” he said. “Something which will—allow them to use their Smash skills to overcome obstacles. Can’t you just imagine Luigi sailing across chasms with that Green Missile? Or Mario having access to his pyrokinesis without requiring a Fire Flower? Or—wait for it—what if I smuggle something out to Peach so she can attempt to rescue herself? And if she happens upon the Bros in the middle of her escape attempt, the three of them can team up and whale the snot out of that turtle. Imagine it.”

“Master Hand—that’ll be a dream come true,” smiled Timmy.

Suddenly, MH lurched, coughing up more of that black substance into a bucket.

“You’re still coughing that stuff up?” asked Remy.

“I am,” replied MH, “and I don’t think stress has anything to do with it anymore.”

“But it _is_ causing you to act aggressively and lash out at people,” said Amy.

“Well, I haven’t yelled at anyone lately,” said MH, “which means that my body is trying to eject whatever this is before I lash out again and inadvertently burn important bridges.”

“Both Bros are still a bit sore about it,” sighed Amy.

“I know,” said MH, “and I also know that it’ll be a while before things are truly back to normal between us. Whatever this black swarm is—it was still no excuse for me to go off on Mario.”

“Well—the four of us don’t have that excuse,” said Remy, “because we’re not throwing up any black substance—that we know of.”

“The best we can do for the time being is to keep our distance,” Jimmy intoned.

“Thanks for your help, Amy,” said MH, “and I must say—you really held your own against Luigi. If I decided to hold another Smash tournament, then would you consider joining it?”

“If I get to use the baton Rory gave me,” said Amy.

“Done,” said MH.

“I really hope you and the Bros work things out,” said Amy.

“Same,” said Rory.

“I’ll spend the night here,” Amy told him, “and I’ll head back to Seattle tomorrow with a story to tell.”

Timmy nodded. “It’s a good idea to lay low until the dust completely settles.”

“But I owe you guys thanks,” said Amy. “It was one Hell of an adventure.”

“When you leave tomorrow,” said Remy, “don’t think of it as ‘goodbye’. Think of it as ‘until we meet again’.”

“I think I’ll do that,” said Amy.

“Despite the circumstances, it was my pleasure sharing this endeavor with you,” said Rory. “I still feel bad that you got hurt.”

“Rory, c’mon. I got to battle Luigi. _The_ Luigi. To me, it was an honor. And I hope to face him on the Smash battlefield one day.”

“You know,” said MH, “give it a few years, and that just might be arranged.”

“All right,” said Amy. “I’m gonna head upstairs and crash. I’ve had a long few days.”

“Very well,” said MH. “Thanks again, Amy.”

Amy smiled, and then she turned and headed toward her room.

The end of one thing was the start of something new.

**1.1.1**

As far as the Smashers were concerned, the rest of the day was devoted to fighting matches and checking up on the Mario Bros’ progress. From time to time, they’d receive text messages from Mario, Luigi and Peach, and they’d always text them back. Even those who still didn’t think too highly of Luigi did their part, sending him encouragement and well-wishes. A few even sent out care packages to the nearest Toad House. Master Hand got in on the action, as well, continuing to brainstorm ways to accelerate these rescue missions and stop Koopa from carrying off the object of his desires in the first place. But deep down, he knew that not even someone as godlike as him could stop the King of Koopas from taking what he wanted. It would eventually fall to Mario to set things right.

Maintaining contact with friends and Smashers alike, Peach and the Bros remained optimistic, assuring everyone that they’d be back sometime tomorrow. Again, one would think that Koopa would try to cut off Peach from the outside world, but no. Because of this, people were able to pass along updates regarding the Bros’ journey to her. These contributions got Peach wondering if she could develop a mobile app that could be used for this particular occasion. A lot of people relied on smartphones nowadays, and her kingdom needed to stay up-to-date with the times.

But the Smashers weren’t the only ones monitoring the Bros’ progress. Koopa was also receiving round-the-clock updates, via the Koopalings and Kamek. He was also warned that the Bros would be loaded for bear when they arrived, what with the princess-snatching turtle getting involved in a plot to nerf Luigi’s down throw rather than buckle down and practice. Anything less than a full-on beatdown was off the table. Despite this, Koopa simply laughed. He could take anything those plumbers saw fit to dish out.

However, things took a bit of a turn later in the afternoon. Reports came in that the Bros just _barely_ managed to clear World 4, and that they’d probably wind up spending the rest of the day recovering in a Toad House, which would cause an obvious delay. Almost instantly, the Bros’ phones blew up with frantic and worried texts, with Mario trying to calm everyone by stating that some of these reports were greatly exaggerated. Yes, they took a lot of hits, but they’d be moving again in a few hours. He also sent out selfies of him with Luigi, the two of them smiling and striking iconic poses. Nobody bought it, however, suspecting that the Bros were more injured than they let on. They adamantly insisted that they remain in the Toad House for the remainder of the day, get something to eat and get some rest, as they’d no doubt have more energy in the morning.

It took a lot of convincing, especially on Luigi’s part.

“You wanna look after your brother, right?” they’d ask him. “Then you’ll do a better job once you’re well-rested and have some food in your belly!”

Eventually, the Bros conceded, and the Toads who contacted the Smashers promised to make sure that the two wouldn’t try to escape in the night.

News of this delay soon reached Koopa, who grinned delightedly.

“Excellent,” he said. “It’ll give the remaining Worlds time to beef up their defenses.”

“I’ll let them know,” said Kamek, flying off on his broom.

“And,” Koopa went on, turning toward Peach with a flirty gaze, “it’ll give us some extra time together. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

Peach met his sultry gaze with an icy, regal one.

_Mario—Luigi—I know you want to save me as soon as possible, but the Smashers are right_, she thought._ World 4 was tough, and it’s only gonna be tougher from here. Please—just spend the night at the Toad House. I’ll need you at full health and full strength when you arrive…_

**1.1.1**

While everyone was avidly following the ongoing rescue mission, the Toads in the MK received an unexpected development.

Starting at mid-morning, there were reports of a young woman jogging purposefully through the kingdom, heading in the direction the Mario Bros had gone. This woman was clad in a Mario costume, slightly modified to accommodate physical activities like running and quite possibly fighting. The sleeves were shortened, the neckline was cut slightly lower, and it was refashioned into a two-piece outfit which bared her midriff, rather than a one-piece pantsuit. Also, it was repurposed with a utility belt, which carried a flashlight, a hammer, a bottle of sunscreen, a cell phone, bug repellant and a canteen filled with water, among other things. The woman also wore a beige backpack suitable for a long hike, which carried snacks, drinks, a first-aid kit, a battery-powered radio, extra batteries and extra charging devices for her phone. In lieu of boots, sneakers were on her feet, and she also packed several pairs of socks and extra sneakers, in case the pair she was wearing became too worn out. Her red hair was in a bun, hiding beneath her red cap, and a focused expression was on her face as her arms and legs pumped. Around her neck was a silver necklace with an Invincibility Star charm on it, which bounced as she ran.

The woman was none other than Vanessa, and she’d decided that she wasn’t about to sit around helplessly while her new friend was at that turtle’s mercy. After powwowing with her husband and children, she’d pulled out her Mario outfit, giving it the above-described action makeover. After that, Theo had lent her one of his utility belts, which fit perfectly around her waist. The flashlight was Anna’s idea, and the hammer was Ethan’s idea, with the rest being common sense. In case she lost her phone signal, Vanessa had decided to bring along a CB radio, as well. And of course, she made sure she had some extra cash on hand.

“Just be careful, all right?” beseeched Theo as Vanessa finished suiting up.

“Of course,” smiled Vanessa.

“Don’t worry, Mom,” said Ethan. “We’ll back you up. Koopa invited all of us to his castle tomorrow.”

“Yeah—he did, didn’t he?” mused Vanessa.

“I hear he invited the BBs and the other conspirators, too,” added Theo. “He says he wants us to meet some new friends of his.”

“He knows that Mario and Luigi are on their way to confront him—and yet he’s inviting us over anyway,” murmured Ethan. “Is he using us as collateral or something?”

Vanessa shook her head. “That’s beneath him. He wouldn’t do anything like that,” she said.

“I guess he enjoys living dangerously,” shrugged Theo.

Vanessa pursed her lips. “What’s his play?” she asked. “And how do we factor into it?”

“We’re gonna find out,” Theo said determinedly. Taking Vanessa’s face in his hands, he added, “Go get him.”

“Will do,” said Vanessa.

The two shared a passionate kiss, and then Vanessa hugged and kissed Anna and Ethan. With a confident smile, she turned and embarked on her self-imposed mission.

All throughout the morning and into the afternoon, Vanessa ran with long, graceful strides and silent footfalls. The brim of her cap protected her against the sun’s glare. It was a normal autumn day, with the high temperature expected to be around the mid-70s. There was also a gentle breeze, cooling her from time to time. She plugged in her earbuds, selected one of her workout music playlists and lunged into her run, breathing slowly and deeply. Toads gawked at her as she ran past them, but she paid them no mind, thinking about Peach and what she was no doubt going through in that castle.

Vanessa ran on her own time, resting when she needed to, taking occasional drinks from her canteen and eating a snack every so often. She called Theo and the kids every hour on the hour to pass along the latest updates and information. When there was a store or a mini-mart nearby, she made sure to browse their wares, and when there was a restaurant nearby, she took the opportunity to enjoy a sit-down meal. People would ask her about her getup, and she’d explain that she was simply going for a hike. It would placate them, but for how long, she didn’t know.

Now, it was nearly sunset, and Vanessa could see a small town up ahead. She could feel the sweat pouring down her face, neck and between her breasts, soaking her outfit. Once she reached that town, she’d find a restaurant to eat and a modest hotel to spend the night. She didn’t want to overdo it, after all.

Her phone rang, and she answered with a breathless, “Yeah?”

“Vanessa,” Peach’s dulcet voice spoke into Vanessa’s ear. “I just got word. Are you—are you trying to rescue me?”

“What are you talking about?” asked Vanessa. “I’m just going for a hike.”

“I don’t buy that for a second,” Peach retorted. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing—don’t. Just—don’t.”

Vanessa sighed. “I just—don’t wanna be a bystander anymore,” she said.

“Vanessa—Mario and Luigi are halfway there. They’re resting up at a Toad House right now. In the morning, they’ll start through World 5, and maybe they’ll make up the time they lost today.”

“What if something else happens?” asked Vanessa. “They could get separated, or…”

“I have faith in them. They’ll handle it,” Peach said gently. “And let me tell you something else—they’ve done this for 30 whole years. They’re practically experts at it. I beg you—let them take care of it. Don’t get yourself hurt or worse on my account. That turtle—he’s unpredictable. He has standards, yes, but he’s still unpredictable.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” said Vanessa. “I’m approaching a small town as we speak.”

“Good. Stay there, and find a place to stay overnight. I want you to head back first thing tomorrow morning, okay?”

“All right,” sighed Vanessa. “You win.”

“Please, don’t do something like this again,” said Peach.

“I won’t.”

“God willing, I’ll see you tomorrow. If not—maybe the day after that.”

“See ya,” Vanessa replied before hanging up.

The sky had turned pink by the time Vanessa jogged into the small town. She shuffled to a stop at a bench and plunked herself down, huffing for breath. Various Toads stopped what they were doing and saw her, plastered thickly with sweat, flushed, her outfit cleaving to her skin, making it transparent.

“Oh, my God!” one Toad exclaimed. “There you are! You’re all over the news!”

“Hi,” greeted Vanessa.

“What were you thinking?” asked another Toad. “I see you came prepared, but even that wouldn’t have been enough! C’mon—let’s get you something to eat!”

Vanessa followed the Toads to a diner, where the dinner rush was about to begin.

The hostess gawked when Vanessa arrived. “The—the running woman!” she exclaimed.

“Apparently, I’m a celebrity now,” said Vanessa.

“I don’t know whether to call your actions brave or foolhardy,” the hostess went on. “Please, follow me.”

Vanessa followed the hostess to a private booth, where she shrugged off her backpack and made herself comfortable.

One of the Toads who’d led her to the diner signaled the hostess.

“Whatever she orders—it’s on me,” they said.

The hostess nodded.

After ordering her food, Vanessa took out her phone and texted her husband and kids, telling them that the Toads had stopped her out of fear for her safety.

“At least I tried,” she said, a little glumly.

Shortly after her drink and appetizer arrived, her phone rang.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Vanessa—what in the Inferno were you thinking?” Mario’s usual falsetto voice was slightly higher. “Luigi and I turned on the TV, and there you were! We just…”

“Mario, I was just going for a hike,” said Vanessa.

“Going for a hike, my foot!” retorted Mario. “Why would you need a hammer if you were just going for a hike?” His voice softened and deepened. “Vanessa, we appreciate that you wanted to help. But we’ve been at this for 30 years. Whatever that turtle throws at us—we can take it. But as someone lacking experience, you could’ve put your life at risk. If the Toads hadn’t stopped you when they did—if Peach hadn’t contacted you…”

“Okay, okay. You got me,” said Vanessa. “I’ll eat dinner, I’ll stay at a hotel, and then I’ll head home tomorrow.”

She heard Mario exhale. “You’re a brave woman,” he told her, “but please, let us handle it. Peach isn’t in immediate danger, anyway. The worst he does is just—put her in a cage. I think. She—doesn’t like to talk about her time ‘in another castle’, and I don’t blame her. But villainous turtle that he is, he has lines he won’t cross, and I think he genuinely loves her in his own twisted way. He’d never harm her for any reason. And the same turtle who regularly grabs her is the same turtle who regularly competes against me in sports.”

“How do you play sports with him and compete in Smash with him?” asked Vanessa. “Knowing that he disturbs life in your new home twice a week?”

“There’s a saying I’d like to go by,” said Mario. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer, but if your enemy just so happens to be a giant, spiny-shelled, fire-breathing turtle, then keep them super-duper close.”

“Hm. That’s deep,” said Vanessa. “Are you turning in now?”

“Just about. _Dio_, you had us worried sick!”

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to pitch in.”

“That’s understandable. Night-night, Vanessa.”

“Good night.”

Vanessa had eaten about half of her appetizer and was waiting for her entrée when her phone rang again.

“Look, I’m sorry for worrying you, okay?” she huffed in exasperation.

“Worrying you? Why, Vanessa, you didn’t worry me at all,” chuckled Koopa. “I had no idea you were _that_ eager to pay me a visit. Did you receive my invite earlier this morning?”

“I did.”

“So all you had to do was just wait a day. And if you’re _that_ worried about Peach, I assure you, she’s fine. It’s not like I did anything Mario wouldn’t do.” Koopa let out a guffaw. “She’s in a nice little room of her own. She gets to use the gym. I organized a little spa day for her and got her nice and relaxed. We’re just about to share a nice dinner together. You and those plumbers can sleep soundly tonight.”

“So—you made some new friends,” said Vanessa. “Who are they? What exactly is your plan this time around?”

“You’ll find out who my new friends are when you meet up with them tomorrow,” Koopa said craftily.

“Master Hand won’t be too happy that you ensnared some of the Smashers in—whatever this is,” cautioned Vanessa.

“What is he, my dad?” scoffed Koopa. “He can’t tell me what to do. Listen—thank God you’re okay. And I mean that from the bottom of my heart. You—didn’t run into any of my minions, did you?”

“No. The Toads didn’t let me get that far.”

“Talk about a close call,” said Koopa.

“To be fair, I had a hammer with me. I would’ve whacked most of them aside.”

This elicited a rumbling chuckle from the hulking reptile. “I can totally see you doing that right now,” he said. “Where are you now?”

“In a restaurant, eating dinner,” replied Vanessa.

“Adventuring takes a lot out of you, I’m sure,” said Koopa.

“It does. That’s why I packed extra snacks and drinks. But the Toads have convinced me to leave Peach’s rescue to a certain pair of seasoned professionals.”

Koopa laughed again.

“Then, it’s off to one of the hotels in town to take a nice bath and get some shut-eye,” Vanessa went on.

“Do me a favor and tell me which hotel you’re staying at,” said Koopa. “I’ll send someone to pick you up in the morning.”

“Much appreciated. Look at that—my main course is coming. See you tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it,” said Koopa.

Vanessa ended the call and smiled as her entrée was set before her. She sanitized her hands, picked up her silverware and dug in.

Her rescue attempt hadn’t ended the way she’d hoped, but it was the thought that counted.

**1.1.1**

Another day in the fourth Super Smash Bros tournament had come to an end. After freshening up and eating dinner in the cafeteria, the Smashers changed into their night clothes and sent one final text to the Mario Bros, Peach or all three before turning in for the night.

Chad had turned off his lights and snuggled into bed, only for a chill to pass through him. He suddenly sensed that he was no longer alone.

He sat up and looked around. His room was empty and just as he’d left it in the morning. But something—something was off.

Wait a minute—

Several items were missing!

One of his cans of deodorant, one of his combs, and a pack of his breath mints, among other things!

But he made sure to lock his door before departing for his matches. There was no way someone could’ve broken in and stolen those items. And the lock had been perfectly intact when he’d returned.

Was he seeing things?

Chad closed his eyes and opened them again. But his missing items were still missing.

High-pitched giggling sounded in his ears, making him jump. The chill crawling along his skin intensified.

_Oh, no_—

_Could that possibly be…?_

The giggle sounded again. And again. The chill enfolded him like a blanket, his heart pounding faster and faster as more objects disappeared before his eyes.

_I’m dreaming, aren’t I? There are no Boos near the Smash Mansion. How could a Boo have found their way in, anyway? There’s a stage representing that mansion, but the Boos there are simulated, aren’t they?_

Chad lay back down and squeezed his eyes shut, praying that he’d wake up.

Then, his pillow turned ice-cold, more high-pitched laughter shrieking in his ears.

With a cry, Chad bolted upright, staring wide-eyed at his pillow.

A Boo leered back at him.

“Hello, Chad,” they said. “Mind if we spend the night here?”

“Yes, I do,” Chad said sharply. “Now get the [bleep] out of my room!”

Another Boo materialized. “We don’t like people giving us orders,” they sneered.

More and more Boos appeared, surrounding Chad and beginning to close in on him.

“Oh, God…” Chad choked out as the Boos cackled and licked out their tongues.

This was no dream. This was really happening!

Desperately, he snatched his flashlight from his nightstand and waved it at the Boos.

“Get back!” he cried. “Get back, all of you!”

A Boo barreled into his arm, making him drop the flashlight, which then disappeared.

And then the Boos moved into his personal space, cackling and giggling in his ear, glaring at him with their beady eyes and perpetual frowns, licking at him with their long tongues and making random objects disappear. Chad swatted and punched at them, but it was no use. He was completely at their mercy.

“What do you want from me?” he demanded of them. “What do you want?”

There was no answer, save for sinister giggling.

Chad curled up on the bed and endeavored to take his mind to a happier place as the Boos took over his room.

It was gonna be a long night.


	26. T Plus 25 Days

As morning came over the Smash World, some of the Smashers were already awake, doing their morning workouts, watching the morning news and freshening up. As soon as they came fully awake, they called or texted the Mario Bros, who were also up and at them, getting ready to take on World 5. They sounded better than they were yesterday, and they also sounded well-rested, conceding that the Smashers had been right. Once they were dressed, the Smashers told Master Hand that they wouldn’t be staying for breakfast, and that they’d spend most of the day in Koopa’s castle. The Hand of Creation was bewildered, to say the least, but he allowed them to go, advising them to exercise caution. He also told them that if they saw an opportunity to get Peach to safety, then by all means, they should take it.

Among these Smashers were Dark Pit, Falco, Marth, Roy, Rolf, Chase, Mewtwo, Kyle, Dorf, Wario and Chad, the latter having barely slept at all, courtesy of the Boos.

“How did Boos get into the Smash Mansion?” asked Wario when Chad explained his situation to everyone.

“You got me,” replied Chad, “but I can see why Luigi is so unnerved around them.”

“If it makes you feel better,” said Marth, “then we’re staying at the castle overnight. And Koopa’s flying us over on his airship. You can grab plenty of rest on the way there.”

“That’s good to know,” sighed Chad.

After packing an overnight bag, the Smashers involved in Project Nerf gathered at a predetermined meeting point, warming themselves with cocoa or cider.

“Hold on.”

Master Hand floated outside, wearing a gold jacket with the Smash logo on it.

“Morning, Master Hand,” said Falco. “Are you coming with us?”

MH chuckled. “You wish,” he said. “You’re—staying overnight, I see.”

“Yes, Master Hand,” chorused the group of Smashers.

“I was just wondering—what is that turtle up to?” asked MH. “He already has Peach—why does he want you?”

“He—he wants us to meet some new friends,” said Roy.

“New friends?” MH frowned. “What the Hell for?”

“He didn’t tell us,” Dorf replied, but there was a knowing look in his eye.

“So—he’s picking you up here in his airship,” said MH, “while the Bros are continuing on to his castle unawares. With Koopa distracted, Mario and Luigi can whisk Peach to safety unseen—if they play their cards right.”

“I think he’s aware of that,” warned Marth. “He could have one of his advisers or generals watching over things in his stead.”

“Even so, I’d better give them a call,” said MH, helping himself to some cocoa. “Carry on, then. And remember what I said earlier.”

“All right,” said Dark Pit.

“See you tomorrow, Master Hand,” said Chad.

“Likewise,” said MH before taking his leave.

“Well,” said Kyle, “as long as MH is cool with this, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Murmurs of assent.

Not long after the talk with MH, they spotted Koopa’s airship in the distance, her flag flying proudly. The group of Smashers waved at the airship as she approached, docked and descended. Her ramp descended, and red and green-shelled Koopa Troopas lined up in neat rows on either side as their King strode out to greet his passengers.

“Top of the morning to you, Your Grace,” said Marth, bowing to the Koopa King.

“Top of the morning to you, too,” said Koopa. “Thanks for showing up.”

“We wouldn’t miss this for the world,” said Dark Pit.

“If you’d follow me in a single-file line, I’ll show you to your cabins,” said Koopa.

The group of Smashers obliged, and they all filed onto the airship.

_Hey, hold up_, said Mewtwo as they paused at the bridge. _You left Peach alone?_

“Yes, Mewtwo. I’m a complete airhead,” Koopa sarcastically responded. “I knew she’d try to escape, so I brought her along with me. She’s resting right now, so please, try not to disturb her.”

“She needs all the rest she can get,” nodded Roy.

“And Kamek is keeping his eyes and ears peeled for those pesky plumbers,” Koopa went on. “Kammy is helping him, too. You guys remember Kammy, right?”

“Yeah,” said Falco. “She helped you when you pulled a little ‘all your base are belong to us’ stunt on Peach fourteen years ago.”

“Exactly,” said Koopa.

He picked up an envelope filled with access keys. “Okay—here are your cabin assignments. When I call your name, please, come forward and accept your keycard. Chad?”

Chad walked up, and Koopa slipped a keycard into his hand. After studying it, Chad hurried over to the corresponding cabin and entered it.

“Chase—Dark Pit—Falco—Kyle…”

This continued until everyone had a cabin. And these cabins were like small suites. There was a coffee maker with assorted coffees and teas, a soft, queen-sized bed, floor-to-ceiling windows, a walk-in tub and shower, a flatscreen TV with premium channels, an assortment of snacks and a variety of lotions, body washes and shampoos, to name a few. Chad stripped to his boxers, flopped onto the bed and was out within minutes, while the others took the time to explore their accommodations before turning on their TVs and viewing the latest traffic and weather reports.

“Attention, passengers,” Koopa’s voice crackled over the PA system. “We’ll be underway shortly. Be advised, we’ll be making two additional stops before heading over to my castle. There are a few more passengers to take on.”

After making that announcement, Koopa dressed in his captain’s uniform, put on his captain’s hat, fired up his airship’s engines and guided the aircraft into the sky before beginning to steer her forward.

**1.1.1**

Half an hour later, Koopa’s airship arrived at her first stop, where a Charging Chuck waited, along with a family of four. After circling the area twice, the airship made a smooth landing, and Koopa emerged to greet the new passengers.

“Vanessa!” Koopa said warmly. “Good to see you nice and freshened up. You gave everyone quite a scare yesterday.”

“I had to at least _try_,” said Vanessa.

“And I admire you for that,” said Koopa. “C’mon, your cabin is ready for you.”

He led Vanessa, Theo, Ethan and Anna to a family-sized cabin, with plenty of entertainment for both the kids and adults. There were even two separate bedrooms, each with their very own bathroom.

“Wow,” the family breathed in unison.

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” said Theo. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” smiled Koopa.

Vanessa looked around the cabin, and then a thought came to her. “Peach…”

“She’s coming along for the ride,” Koopa told her. “I figured she could use the fresh air.”

“Or maybe you don’t want her trying to escape,” Vanessa said coolly.

“Yeah—that, too,” shrugged Koopa. “But I really don’t want her cooped up in my castle all the time.”

Vanessa and her brood exchanged a look.

“Feel free to make yourselves comfortable,” said Koopa. “We only have one more stop to make.”

“Okay,” said Theo.

As Koopa left, the family quickly put their luggage away before powwowing in the main bedroom. They knew that they could use this situation to their advantage. With the right amount of planning, the usual rescue mission would be considerably more painless than normal.

**1.1.1**

The airship’s final stop was at a metropolitan area, where a businessman waited, flanked by several bodyguards. This businessman smiled as the airship docked and her captain stepped out.

“Mr. Sakurai,” said Koopa.

“Your Grace,” replied Mr. Sakurai.

Jeff appeared, holding Mr. Sakurai’s bags.

“We’ll take care of them,” Koopa assured him as two Hammer Bros arrived to help with the luggage.

“Thank you,” said Jeff. “Please, keep him safe.”

“I assure you, Jeff—all of my passengers and guests are under my full protection,” smiled Koopa.

He shook hands with Jeff, Reggie and the rest of the bodyguards. Then, he lumbered back onto the ship and took his place at the helm.

“Let’s take this baby to the skies,” said Koopa. “Time to stretch her legs.”

At once, the airship’s crew shouted orders to one another as they worked in tandem to lift the magnificent aircraft off the ground, her propellers turning slowly at first, and then faster and faster. The passengers headed over to the railing, holding on tight while watching the world below them grow smaller and smaller, the feeling akin to being inside an ascending elevator. Higher and higher the airship rose until she was just above the clouds, spread out like a silky layer of frosting in the blue autumn sky. The air was chillier at this altitude, so the passengers wasted no time pulling on their jackets.

“It’s almost as if we’re sailing,” mused Chase, “with the clouds as the sea.”

“You bet,” said Dorf.

They fell silent as Koopa once again addressed them over the PA system. “This is your captain speaking,” he said. “Welcome about my airship of the line, en route to my castle. At this time, I’d like to ask you to read over the safety precautions and the emergency instruction booklet. For your safety, do not leave young children unattended, and exercise caution in moving about whenever the airship is in motion. We are expecting to arrive at our destination within the next 5 hours, and I’ll notify you of any delays or developments. For the time being, however, just sit back, relax and enjoy the journey.”

On those words, the airship picked up speed, churning through the sky and the sea of clouds as the passengers drank in the view. Above the pillowy mass of clouds was the sun, its light providing some relief from the cooler temperatures. Falco joined Marth, Roy and a few others at the bow, spreading out his wings and laughing as the airship continued gliding forward.

“Look at that, folks!” he cried. “I’m flying! I’m actually _flying_!”

Marth and Roy glanced down below, where a flock of birds flew through the clouds under the airship in a “V” formation.

“Imagine that,” breathed Marth. “We’re flying higher than the birds. That turtle has really outdone himself.”

“Say that again,” said Rolf.

Roy caught Marth’s hand, and they stood next to Falco at the very front of the ship.

“I’m king of the world!” whooped Roy, Marth, Falco, Rolf and eventually Chase whooping and cheering along with him.

Koopa smiled hugely at them as he watched them goof around. He knew that eventually, those plumbers would show up and take Peach back, so he and his passengers should have as much fun as they could before then.

**1.1.1**

Shortly after the airship got underway, Theo and Vanessa got the kids settled down with some cartoons and cereal bars.

“Hopefully, she’s not in the brig,” Vanessa said quietly.

“He wouldn’t put her there,” Theo assured her. “I can tell that he loves and treasures her, so he wouldn’t treat her like a common prisoner. Maybe he has her in one of the cabins.”

“That would be a good guess,” said Vanessa. “Which one, though?”

“One way to find out,” said Theo. “Stay here with the kids. I’ll take a look around.”

Vanessa laid a hand on his arm. “I’ll look for her,” she said.

Theo frowned. “Are you sure?”

“No offense, but she’s closer to me. And she’s probably frazzled right now. The Bros haven’t texted us for a long time now.”

Theo heaved a sigh. “Just—be careful, yeah?”

“I always am,” said Vanessa.

“I’ve got your back, though,” Theo assured her. “I won’t let those minions hurt you.”

“I know you won’t.”

Husband and wife shared a kiss, and then the latter stepped out of the cabin, cautiously making her way down the rows of cabins, and eventually roaming through the rest of the ship.

“If I was the fearsome ruler of a faraway land,” Vanessa mused to herself, “with a fleet of airships at my disposal, and I had the object of my twisted affections in my clutches—then where on my airship would I stash her?”

A lightbulb went off in her mind.

“The Captain’s Cabin,” she realized.

She threw a glance at Koopa, who stood at the helm, expertly guiding the airship through the sky. Then, she put some speed under her feet, took her chances and quietly darted toward the other side of the vessel. Flattening herself against the wall, she slid her way along the corridor towards the Captain’s Cabin. When she came upon two red-shelled Koopa Troopas guarding what appeared to be a large room, she knew she was in the right place.

_Great. How do I sneak in?_

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said one of the Koopa Troopas, making her jump a little, “but you can’t be here.”

Vanessa faced him, ready to defend herself if necessary. “I just want to talk to her for a while,” she said. “We’re friends.”

The Koopa Troopa smiled sadly. “Can’t do it,” he said, a bit forlornly.

Vanessa stepped closer to him, dropping her voice. “Or,” she said, “perhaps I should tell His Majesty about those power-ups you’ll no doubt send to the Mario Bros once his back is turned?” She indicated a pile of Golden Mushrooms as she spoke.

The Koopa Troopa paled.

“Ten minutes,” he said.

Vanessa beamed. “Great,” she said.

The Koopa Troopa nodded to his companion, who took out a ring of keys and unlocked the door.

“I think now would be a good time to send those power-ups,” Vanessa said craftily before entering the cabin.

Once the door closed and locked behind her, Vanessa scanned the palatial room, looking for the Mushroom Princess.

“Peach?” she called. “Are you in here? Are you okay?”

“Over here, Vanessa.”

Vanessa turned her head and followed the voice, quickly locating Peach under the covers of Koopa’s huge bed.

“Hey,” breathed Vanessa.

“Hey,” replied Peach, sitting up. “What are you doing here?”

“That turtle is flying me and a few others to his castle to meet some friends of his,” explained Vanessa, “and so, I figured I might as well see about you.”

“Friends?” asked Peach. “As in the Bennigan Brothers?”

“Well, we technically already met them,” said Vanessa, “and he didn’t really say who these friends were. He wants it to be a surprise.”

Peach brushed her hair out of her face. “These friends are probably shady,” she mused. “He’s keeping me in the dark about them.”

“Don’t worry,” said Vanessa. “Once we find out who they are, we’ll pass it along to those two.”

“What does he want with you?” asked Peach.

“Maybe—he doesn’t want anything,” postulated Vanessa. “Maybe he just wants us to meet these friends of his and then share some quality time before _they_ get here.”

Peach snorted. “Fat chance,” she said. “He’s always planning something. Either he wants to get rid of Mario, or recreate a galaxy in his image, or take over _someplace_. There’s always a scheme cooking in his brain.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Vanessa. “Okay? In the meantime, you gotta stay calm and think positive, because they’re fighting their way to that castle to get to you.”

Peach nodded and sat up even straighter, the sheets falling away from her body. Vanessa then saw that Peach was wearing a strapless, light pink dress, which was slightly wrinkled.

“Believe it or not, I’m holding up okay,” Peach said softly. “After he brought me to the castle, he had his attendants run a nice, warm bath for me. Then, he let me spend some time in a steam room before taking me to a lounge area of sorts. There were snacks and ice-cold beverages, and he smiled at me and told me to relax. After a while, he gave me some clothes to wear and showed me to my room. He pretty much left me to my own devices, even letting me eat my dinner in my room. It wasn’t until the next day that he started in on me.”

“I knew it. He was trying to get you to marry him, wasn’t he?”

“And trying to get me to give up my kingdom. As if.” Peach tossed her head. “But then, he arranged a spa day for me. I got a few body treatments, a massage, and I got my hair and nails done. It was like—being in a gilded cage without bars. Oh, and he lets me use his gym. I shouldn’t count that out.”

“He’s pampering you,” acknowledged Vanessa, “but he’s still holding you against your will, and his intentions toward your kingdom are ambiguous at best. He ordered innocent Toads to be transformed into blocks and bricks the first few times around.”

“And not only that—he took part in a huge plot to nerf one of my heroes,” said Peach. “Was he really frustrated over those combos? Or did he just want to get to Mario?”

“I’d guess both,” eyerolled Vanessa.

“Theo—the kids…”

“They’re safe,” Vanessa assured her. “He gave us a family-sized cabin.”

Peach propped up her pillow and sat up fully in the bed, aiming her remote at the TV and switching it on.

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” she asked.

Vanessa sighed. “I’d love to, but they gave me ten minutes,” she said.

Peach’s eyes twinkled. “Well, then,” she said. “Let’s convince them to give us more time.”

**1.1.1**

Outside the Captain’s Cabin, the two red-shelled Koopa Troopas continued to stand guard.

“Well, I say he says ‘denser’ in the lyrics,” the one on the left was saying, referring to the song “Human” by The Killers.

“And I say he says ‘dancer’,” retorted the one on the right.

“How does that even make sense?” Left wanted to know.

“That’s the beauty of music, isn’t it?” retorted Right. “Music and songs don’t have to make sense to be enjoyed and appreciated. Heck, some songs can have nonsensical lyrics, and they result in a deeply spiritual listening experience. And some songs don’t have lyrics at all.”

Left smirked. “Since when did you start getting philosophical over music?” he asked.

“I’ve had some time on my hands, is all,” shrugged Right.

“And speaking of time…” Left checked his watch. “Our visitor’s time is halfway expired. We’d better let her know.”

He turned to rap on the door, only for it to open, Vanessa popping her head out.

“Finished already?” Right asked in surprise.

“You have five minutes left,” added Left.

“You two are very kind,” said Vanessa stepping out of the room, “but unfortunately, Peach and I just can’t have you hovering outside this door.”

“What?”

Vanessa lashed out swiftly and sharply, landing a knifehand strike to Left’s neck. Left retreated into his shell in surprise, and before Right could react, Vanessa kicked the shell into him, causing him to also duck into his shell. She watched the two shells bounce along the corridors for a while before stopping one shell with her foot, and then Peach came out and stopped the other shell in the same fashion.

The two women picked up the shells and carried them inside, placing them on one of the couches.

Right was the first to recover, emerging from his shell and glaring at them.

“Just you wait till I tell His Majesty about this,” he hissed.

This time, it was Peach who delivered a chop to Right’s neck, rendering him dazed.

“That should hold them for a while,” she said.

They took the shells into the bedroom and gently set them against the wall. Then, Peach cracked open a bottle of sparkling grape juice and filled two glasses, which she set on the nightstand.

“What kind of movie are you in for?” she asked.

Within moments, the two women were snuggled together in the bed, sipping on their grape juice and watching a romantic comedy. Before the movie started, Vanessa had texted Theo and the kids, telling them that Peach was in the Captain’s Cabin and looked okay, for the most part. And she seemed okay, too, laughing along with Vanessa as they viewed the hijinks that the two romantic leads wound up in on their way to their happily ever after. Halfway through the flick, Left and Right came to, and Peach paused the film, she and Vanessa carrying the two Koopa Troopas outside and propping them against the doorway, placing an empty bottle of alcohol between them to make it look like they’d been drinking and slacking off on the job.

As the credits rolled, Peach and Vanessa refilled their glasses and chatted about this and that.

Peach then glanced out her window. “We’re almost there,” she said. “Think we have time to watch a chick flick?”

“If we skip through the previews, then I think we can squeeze one in,” replied Vanessa.

With a smile, Peach browsed through the on demand menu in search of the perfect chick flick.

“Here’s a good one,” she murmured as she made her selection.

As the movie began, the two women once again settled back, Peach temporarily forgetting about the stress of her current situation. In the clutches of a power-hungry turtle, she could use the extra company. But by and by, reality began intruding on them, in the form of commotion outside.

Vanessa grabbed the now-empty bottle of sparkling grape juice. “Stay here,” she said. “I’ll go see what that is.”

Cautiously, she ventured outside the Captain’s Cabin and back onto the Main Deck. There, she saw Theo and the kids, attempting to distract Koopa as he lumbered toward his quarters.

Unhesitatingly, she ran over.

“There you are!” Theo said innocently, giving his wife a big hug. “Sorry, Your Grace. False alarm.”

“Yeah. I was going for a walk,” added Vanessa.

Koopa studied her before laughing heartily.

“And you even stopped by to sample some of my sparkling grape juice,” he chuckled. “You know, I really can’t blame you for wanting to visit Peach. You really care about her.”

“Yes, I do,” Vanessa said levelly.

“So do I,” said Koopa. “You and I aren’t so different, are we?”

“I’m _nothing_ like you,” Vanessa shot back. “At least I know that ‘no’ means ‘no’.”

Koopa held up his hands placatingly. “Whatever you say,” he said. “I was just observing that we both care for Peach, that’s all.”

“You have an unorthodox way of showing it,” opined Theo.

“But I _do_ care for her. Deeply,” said Koopa. He cleared his throat. “However, Vanessa here _did_ trespass on private property. I’ll let this infraction slide for now, but be warned—it’ll be the only time I’ll do so.”

Theo stormed up to the Koopa King, grabbed him by his spiked collar and pulled him close.

“Touch my wife,” he warned in a low voice, “and you’re dead.”

He let go of Koopa and quickly herded his family back to their cabin, leaving the overgrown reptile stunned—a very rare occurrence.

**1.1.1**

The airship reached Koopa Castle with no further incident. Vince, Manny, Shane and Stu were waiting at the entrance as the airship docked and discharged her passengers, and they were joined by a slew of Koopa’s other minions, led by Kamek and Kammy.

“Hey, guys,” said Stu. “How was the trip?”

“Relaxing,” replied Falco.

“Breakfast is almost ready,” said Kamek. “Take all the time you need to unpack your stuff.”

The Bennigan Brothers and assembled minions helped the guests settle into their rooms. After that, everyone took the opportunity to freshen up, relax and prepare for the day ahead.

Falco booted up his laptop and logged onto the fan club website, telling everyone that he’d be busy most of the day and thus wouldn’t have time to respond to any activity on the chat or the discussion forums. H.G. assured him that they all understood perfectly, telling him to reply on his own time. After that, Falco sent a similar message to Gadd, asking him to hold off on any calls or texts until at least the next day. Gadd wished him well.

So far, there were still no updates on the Mario Bros’ progress, leading all to wonder what underhanded stunt their host had decided to pull this time around.

When Kamek announced that breakfast was ready to be served, the guests filed into the dining room and took their seats at a circular table. Koopa Troopas brought out massive platters piled high with cheesy scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, hash browns and biscuits. Shy Guys brought out equally massive pitchers of milk and several juices, followed by massive baskets holding warm pastries. Finally, there were several pots of coffee and hot water, along with assorted teas and packets of hot chocolate and cider.

Just as the last of the food was set out, Koopa entered the dining room, with Peach beside him. All of the guests rose at the King’s approach, to which he smiled.

“Please, sit,” he said, “and enjoy.”

His guests obliged, serving themselves, saying grace and digging in.

The Koopa King now wore a red-violet royal cape with a black trim, held in place with a ruby brooch. A silver crown dotted with rubies was on his head. Seated to his left, Peach was dressed in a strapless, dark purple gown with sparkling gold accents, her hair in two medium-length braids tied with gold ribbons. A necklace with an emerald gem the size of a child’s hand was clasped around her neck, she wore an emerald bracelet on her dominant wrist and a sports watch on her other wrist.

“Before we forget,” said Kamek as they ate. “Kammy and I have some news we’d like to share with you all.”

Everyone listened in anticipation.

Kamek and Kammy exchanged a look, and then the latter flashed a sparkling ring on her finger.

“Shazam!” she cried.

The dining room erupted in cheers.

“No way!” exclaimed Kyle.

“Congratulations, you two!” trilled Marth.

“It’s about time my top advisor has some happiness in his life,” smiled Koopa.

“C’mon—tell us the deets,” said Dark Pit.

“It was amazing,” said Kammy. “Kamek brought me onto the castle roof one night, and it was clear and starry, not a cloud in sight. We shared a large plate of cooked sushi rolls and talked about life. Then, a formation of Magikoopas flew overhead and skywrote ‘MARRY ME KAMMY’ with their rainbow trails. Just as I caught my breath from that, four Hammer Bros brought out a _pyramid_ of sushi rolls, and hidden in that pyramid was this.” She indicated the ring. “We finished the night with a special performance by the Dark Land National Ballet, accompanied by the Dark Land Philharmonic Orchestra, which was dedicated to our love.”

“D’aawww…” everyone cooed.

“How did Koopa react?” asked Sakurai. “Initially?”

“When Kamek told me that he was gonna propose, I was a bit floored,” said Koopa, “but I recovered quickly and even helped him plan the entire shebang.”

“When’s the big day?” asked Vanessa.

“We haven’t decided yet,” said Kamek, “but we’re planning on a summer wedding in a coastal seaside town. Rico Harbor, maybe. And then we’ll honeymoon in Gelato Beach.”

“Wow,” breathed Rolf. “We’re happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,” said Kamek. “I hope this is the start of many more adventures with her.” He gazed lovingly at Kammy, who gazed back.

“Well—two advisors is better than one,” grinned Koopa. “Welcome to the family, Kammy. Officially.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” said Kammy.

Kammy and Kamek kissed, to applause from everyone at the table.

“I hate to change the subject,” said Koopa, “but I suppose you all are wondering why you haven’t heard anything from those plumbers.”

“Er—well, now that you’ve mentioned it…” Dark Pit started to say.

“Don’t be bashful,” Koopa broke in, “I know that you’re rooting for them despite all that’s happened. Anyway, allow me to fill in the gaps for you. Kamek and Kammy demonstrated just what a wonderful team they make by offering those two a little surprise in World 5.”

“Surprise?” echoed Marth.

“I like to spice things up for them from time to time,” Koopa explained. “If it was the same-old, same-old, then it would get boring, and I don’t want that. Anyway, when those pesky plumbers started into World 5, Kammy and Kamek disabled their phone signals, and as far as I’m concerned, Wi-Fi is nowhere to be seen. And not only that—but also these lovely Magikoopas went the extra mile—and separated them.”

Stunned silence.

“Oh, my God,” breathed Peach. “You _didn’t_.”

“_I_ didn’t,” smirked Koopa. “_They_ did.”

Kamek and Kammy flushed with accomplishment as Peach seared them with a glare.

“We gotta keep them on their toes,” said Koopa. “Otherwise, they’ll be able to foil my plans before I even start enacting them.”

“Wait a minute—then that means—they’ve been separated and wandering blindly through World 5 for _at least six hours_!” Chad balked. “What the Hell, man?!”

“Yeah, what if something _really_ bad happens?” Falco joined in.

Sakurai turned a little pale. “I have a beef with Luigi,” he said, “but I don’t want him _dead_.”

“Guys, relax,” Koopa said disarmingly. “They’re only dealing with a large, gloomy and haunted area. No biggie.”

“No biggie?” spluttered Vince. “A large, haunted area is _definitely_ a biggie. Last I checked, Luigi doesn’t bring his _secret weapon_ with him during these types of missions.”

“It’s like—you stuck him in Dracula’s Castle without any Holy Water or a whip with a spiked ball attached to it!” added Shane. Off of everyone’s looks, he put in, “What? I play _Castlevania_ sometimes.”

“When it comes to his beloved brother, no ghost will trump Luigi,” Koopa assured everyone. “They’ll be _fine_.”

Kyle shook his head. “You are _so_ in for it when they reunite and storm this place,” he warned.

“I was _just_ about to say that,” said Peach.

“Okay—let’s all keep calm,” said Marth. “Maybe they’ll update us when their wireless signal is restored.”

“Hope so,” said Roy.

“You know what?” Manny spoke up. “As long as we’re not caught in the crossfire, you can do what the Hell you want.”

Koopa broke into laughter. “Caught in the crossfire? Every time you walk into my castle, you always take that risk. There were a couple of near-misses, and so far, you’ve all emerged unscathed.”

_That’s because we were lucky_, Mewtwo put in. _When Mario and Luigi get here, they’ll be hot and pumped and ready to kick all kinds of [bleep]. And then they’ll see us and remember that we partook in a plot to nerf Luigi’s down throw because we couldn’t stand losing to him._

“I won’t let them beat you up, if that’s what you’re worried about,” eyerolled Koopa. “Besides, you guys are Smashers. I’ve seen you more than hold your own against them. Well, against Mario, at least. We were too busy fuming and raging over Luigi’s combos to try and eke out a strategy.”

A beat passed.

“Speaking of keeping people on their toes,” purred Koopa, turning toward Peach, “_you_ have certainly kept me on mine during this go-round. I’m glad I set my sights on you, Peachy. You’re definitely smarter and more clever than you look. I always knew you wouldn’t wait around for your Mario to rescue you. But planting a bottle of alcohol on the guards outside my cabin to make them look like incompetent failures? Oh, man! I’m still fanboying over it!” He let out a rumbling laugh.

“I shouldn’t leave out the fact that you had some help,” he continued when he composed himself. “Vanessa is surely no damsel in distress. Those two guards have matching bruises on their necks to show for that. I mean, if you care for Peach that much, then after breakfast, we can go outside and face each other one-on-one. Save the Bros some trouble. If you win, I’ll let you leave with Peach. If _I_ win…” He trailed off.

“As much as I’d like to kick your [bleep],” said Vanessa, “I have two kids to think about.”

Theo simply glared daggers at Koopa as he laid a reassuring hand over Vanessa’s.

“About your, uh, your new friends,” Chad spoke up. “When are they coming over?”

“Sometime this afternoon,” Koopa replied. “Around one o’clock—3p.m. at the very latest. That’ll give us some time to digest this nice food and—get ready. With the Bros currently distracted, I doubt we’ll have to worry about them butting in.”

“Will they be staying overnight, as well?” asked Sakurai.

“No, they’ll be departing somewhere in the evening,” Koopa replied. To Peach, he said, “I’m sorry to say that you won’t be meeting them just yet. But don’t worry, you’ll make their acquaintance soon.”

Peach smiled thinly. “Looking forward to it,” she said.

“I know you are,” cooed Koopa.

Peach narrowed her eyes. “If anything happens to one brother or the other,” she warned, “then God help you.”

“Amen,” said Marth.

“They’ll forgive me,” Koopa said optimistically. “Eventually.”

His guests weren’t so sure, however. But that was a matter for another time.

**1.1.1**

While waiting for Koopa’s new friends to show up, the guests sent texts to the Bros every hour on the hour, hoping in vain for a reply. As morning turned into afternoon and a light lunch was served, they all couldn’t help but think that Koopa meant business this time around. After 30 years of defeats, he was no doubt driven stir-crazy and wanted to take things to the next level. And was this related to these “friends”? There was no question in their minds that the answer was “yes”.

It was 1p.m. on the dot when Koopa summoned everyone into the castle’s Grand Hall. And standing there with him were four professionally-dressed rabbits.

“Hello, everyone,” said Koopa. “I’d like you to meet—the Broodals.”

The Broodals smiled courteously at the guests.

“Wait a sec,” said Vince. “I remember—you told my brothers and I a little about them!”

“The Broodals have offered to assist me with a very important project,” said Koopa. “My _magnum opus_, if you will. They’re professional, they’re affordable and they get the job done.”

“That’s right!” The Broodals said in unison.

The orange-and-yellow clad Broodal stepped forward. “Good afternoon,” he said. “My name’s Rango. It’s nice to meet you all.”

Koopa’s guests shook Rango’s paw.

“Greetings,” said the royal blue-clad Broodal. “I’m Spewart.” He also held out a paw to shake.

“Hey,” said the Broodal wearing green. “Call me Topper.”

“Hi,” said the last Broodal, who was clad in purple. “I’m their sister, Harriet.”

The Smashers, the Bennigan Brothers, Vanessa and her family and Mr. Sakurai shook hands with the Broodals, also introducing themselves.

“How did you come across Koopa, if you don’t mind my asking?” asked Falco.

“Let’s just say that he came to us,” Harriet said slyly. “He told us that he had a major endeavor in the works that would give us a major payday. After he told us his story, we agreed to take on his project.”

“Project?” frowned Vanessa. “What kind of project?”

Spewart passed out copies of a brochure. “My brothers, my sister and I are certified wedding planners,” he explained, “and we hate to brag, but we’re the best of the best—of the best. We also genuinely enjoy our job of giving couples the wedding of their dreams. Their satisfaction is our specialty—or they’ll get their money back.”

Dorf had a huge smile on his face.

“Wedding planners?” echoed Chase. “Hey—you guys must be planning Kamek and Kammy’s wedding!”

“Nope,” said Koopa. “They’re planning _mine_.”

“No way! You’re getting married?” Dark Pit exclaimed. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Who do you think?” winked Koopa.

It only took seconds for it to sink in.

“I knew it!” thundered Vanessa. “I freaking knew it! You’re gonna force her to marry you again!”

“Calm down, Vanessa,” chuckled Koopa. “I’m not doing that right this second. A royal wedding like this takes years of intricate planning.” He pulled out a thick folder and set it on the table. “Observe—my plans for an _odyssey_ like no other.”

The folder was passed from guest to guest, allowing everyone to look through it.

“Wow,” said Chad. “You’re—you’re pretty intricate.”

“It’ll be two years, give or take, before I’m ready to put on this royal wedding,” said Koopa. “And—you all are cordially invited.”

“Well,” said Falco. “We’re touched.”

“He told me already,” said Dorf. “I’m gonna be his best man.”

“And my bros and I will be his groomsmen,” added Vince.

“Theo—would you like to be a groomsman, as well?” asked Koopa.

“Come back to me,” Theo responded.

“Fair enough,” grumbled Koopa. “Vanessa—would you like to be there for Peach on her special day as her matron of honor?”

“Yes,” replied Vanessa. “I would. Provided that my book club is invited, as well.”

“Done,” said Koopa.

“Then I’ll be your groomsman,” said Theo.

“And Vanessa—maybe a few members of your book club can serve as bridesmaids?” offered Koopa.

“I’ll talk to them,” said Vanessa.

“Anna—would you like to be the flower girl?”

“Can Ethan be the ring bearer?” asked Anna.

“Sure,” replied Koopa. “He’ll need some help, though.”

“Then I guess you’ve got yourself a flower girl!”

“What about the Koopalings?” asked Roy.

“I already sent word to them, and they’re ecstatic,” smiled Koopa. “They’ll finally have someone to call ‘Mama’. Especially BJ. I’d want him to be the ring bearer, but if things go wrong, I don’t want him in the middle of it. Ethan—one of your friends will have to help you with that ring. You’ll find out why in a second.”

“Okay.”

“Rest assured, all of you will receive the VIP treatment at the ceremony and the reception,” said Koopa. “The Broodals will be happy to take care of you.”

“That folder you’ve passed around to your guests,” said Rango. “I take it those are the wedding plans?”

“They are,” said Koopa.

“Then we’ll need to see that folder,” said Harriet.

“Here you go,” said Stu, handing the folder to the Broodals.

The Broodals sat together, looking over the folder’s contents.

“Wow,” breathed Topper. “You’re really organized. Better than any client we’ve come across. And you really know what you want. You’re specific and to the point. That makes our job easier.”

Harriet pulled out a binder and flipped through the laminated pages. “Okay,” she said. “Based on the info you’ve given us, we think that—_this_ package is the right one for you.” She showed the binder page to Koopa. “It’s one of our most popular packages, but as always, the final decision is up to you. If this is a _royal_ wedding, then no expense should be spared.”

“You’re right,” said Koopa, “because I intend to marry a very special lady. As such, I want to make this special for her as well as for me.”

“Is the bride here?” asked Harriet.

“She is.”

“May I talk to her for a moment?” asked Harriet.

“Yes, you may. Just—don’t tell her about the wedding. I want it to be a surprise. Tell her—tell her that you’re one of my dressmakers or something.”

“I can certainly do that,” smiled Harriet.

A green-shelled Koopa Troopa led Harriet to Peach’s room.

“All right,” said Spewart. “Are you planning on holding a bachelor party?”

“Definitely,” replied Koopa.

“Where will you hold it?” asked Rango.

“On one of my airships,” said Koopa. “The bachelorette party will also be held on an airship.”

“We’ll get in touch with the best caterers in the Dark Lands,” said Spewart.

“Now let’s talk about wardrobe,” said Topper. “This is the woman of your dreams we’re talking about, and you stated that ordinary tuxedoes and dresses just won’t cut it. When Harriet’s done with the lucky gal, we’re gonna have to measure you, as well as your wedding party. And if the guests wanna be measured, too, then we’ll certainly make that happen.”

“All right,” said Koopa. “You know of the Lochlady Dress, yes? A splendid gown made of the finest silk.”

“Don’t worry,” smiled Rango. “We’ll get you the Lochlady Dress. What about your outfit?”

“I’ll have it custom-made,” replied Koopa, “along with the clothes for the rest of my wedding party.”

“Will you be wearing different outfits for the reception?” asked Topper.

“I think—that would be best,” said Koopa.

“Will there be a specific seating chart for the ceremony and reception?” asked Spewart.

“Nah. My guests can sit wherever. My bride and I will be seated together, of course, along with the best man, matron of honor, bridesmaids and groomsmen. But other than that, I’m not a stickler for seating arrangements.”

“How about rings and accessories?” asked Rango.

“The Binding Band,” said Koopa. “It’s supposed to join couples together for all eternity. You’ll be traveling to a lot of wondrous places to help make this wedding happen.”

“Sounds like an adventure to me!” grinned Spewart.

“As for me, I’m planning on wearing a top hat with my suit,” Koopa went on, “and my bride—I wanna give her a lovely tiara. But not just any tiara—one of _these_ tiaras.” He tapped a finger on a document inside the folder.

“Rest assured, we’ll take care of that for you,” said Topper. “What about the food?”

“I’m thinking about bringing some of that famous Stupendous Stew,” said Koopa. “If they want, some of the guests can chip in and bring their own food, as well. I don’t know the effect that stew will have on children’s pallets. In addition, I’ll order some puff pastries, cocktail wieners—browse online for the perfect wedding feast. And to drink—I hope you can get me some of that Sparkle Water, which I’ll use to hand-craft my own sparkling beverages.”

“We’ll get you the stew and the Sparkle water,” said Rango. “Security, unfortunately, will be extra.”

“Never fear. My own minions will provide the security,” said Koopa.

“But if you want spa attendants, hairstylists, manicurists, pedicurists, masseuses, the works—_that’s_ included in the package,” said Topper.

“I’ll take it.”

They glanced up as Harriet came back.

“All right,” she said. “I have her measurements.” She handed her brothers a piece of paper. “She was also nice enough to tell me her likes and dislikes, and when I asked her, hypothetically of course, what her perfect wedding would be like, she happily told me. Here, I took some notes.” She gave her brothers another piece of paper. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not at all, Sis,” said Topper. “We’ve already decided on the wardrobe, the food and beverages, the security, the accessories and whether or not there’ll be a seating arrangement. All that’s left is the venue, the transportation and who will be in the wedding party.”

“I’ll provide the transportation,” said Koopa. “My airships, of course. However, I’d like you to help me decorate them for the occasion.”

“Sure,” said Harriet.

“As for the wedding party,” said Rango, “let’s start with the groom’s side.”

“Okay, here we go. So, Dorf is my best man, and Vincent, Manny, Shane, Stuart and Theo are my groomsmen. Uh—is there anyone else who wants to be a groomsman?”

“We’ll pass,” said Falco. “Thanks, though.”

The Broodals took notes as Koopa spoke.

“And the bride’s side?” asked Harriet.

“Vanessa is the matron of honor, and she wants a few members of her book club to serve as bridesmaids.”

“All right.”

“And I’ll also provide the entertainment for the reception, the organist for the ceremony, and the minister who will officiate,” said Koopa.

“What about the venue?” asked Spewart. “Will it be here, in the castle?”

“Oh, no,” said Koopa. “That’ll be _too_ predictable. The venue I have in mind is outlined in the folder I gave you.”

“I see,” said Harriet, gazing at the folder. “Honeylune Ridge. Their entire _revenue_ is generated from weddings. My brothers and I will have to coordinate with them.”

“Like I said, this type of _odyssey_ takes time—and money,” said Koopa, “but I’m determined to hold this royal wedding in at least two years’ time.”

The Broodals finished taking notes.

“All right,” said Topper. “I’d like to ask the bride’s and groom’s parties to form two separate lines for us, please.”

They obliged.

“Any wedding guests who’d also like to be fitted, please, form another line,” added Rango.

The rest of the guests obliged.

“All right,” Harriet said to her brothers. “I’ll take the ladies, and you three can take the guys. Sounds like a deal?”

“Sounds good,” nodded Spewart. “Let’s get to work!”

For the next hour or so, the Broodals worked with the wedding party and wedding guests. After being brought to a quiet room, each guest stripped to their undergarments, allowing one of the Broodals to gather more precise measurements. The wedding planners were very respectful and professional, and they made the measuring process as painless as possible. Once the measuring was done, the guests re-dressed, and then the Broodals asked them what type of dress or outfit they’d like and what color it should be.

“I’ll have to take that up with my book club,” Vanessa told Harriet, “but I’m leaning toward a light-green color.”

The Broodals jotted down more notes based on the guests’ responses.

However, in the middle of these one-on-one sessions, the guests’ phones vibrated. Trying not to be too optimistic, those still waiting their turn fished out their cell phones and checked their messages. Then, they all whooped and laughed in delight.

Koopa grimaced. “That doesn’t sound good,” he mused.

And it wasn’t—at least for him. Kamek and Kammy flew in with urgent news—the Mario Bros had managed to reunite, and they’d just finished laying the smackdown on the World 5 boss! To make things worse (again, for him), the duo had uncovered a Warp Zone, taking them to a pipe leading directly to the Dark Lands!

“Do you have an ETA for them?” Koopa asked warily.

“Right now, we’re guessing—6 to 9 hours,” replied Kammy.

“69 hours?!” bellowed Koopa.

“No, no, no,” clarified Kamek. “6 _to_ 9 hours.”

“If we’re lucky,” Kammy put in.

“Lucky,” grumbled Koopa. “Thanks for the update, you two. Hopefully, the Broodals will be finished before those plumbers get here.”

“We’d better get ready,” said Kamek, and then he and Kammy flew off to warn the rest of the castle.

Those who were currently meeting with the Broodals paused the conversation to take a peek at their phones, smiling when they saw the good news. After the interview was finished, they wasted no time texting the Mario Bros back, asking if they were all right. Albeit they responded in the affirmative, the castle guests weren’t so sure, and since Luigi had to traverse through a haunted area by himself, he would no doubt be shaken up.

It was another 30 to 45 minutes before the Broodals finished measuring and interviewing everyone.

“You’re the kind of wedding party we like,” Harriet said brightly. “We look forward to doing business with you.”

“Likewise,” said Koopa.

“Here is your preliminary bill estimate,” said Rango, giving Koopa a slip of paper.

Koopa pursed his lips. “All right,” he said, whipping out his checkbook and quickly writing out a check. “Here’s half of it. A good faith payment. You’ll get the other half when me and my beautiful bride are Mr. and Mrs. Or rather—King and Queen of the Koopas.”

“Thanks,” said Topper as he and his siblings accepted the check.

“I am honored to share this important moment of my life with you,” said Koopa. Turning to his guests, he added, “and with you—the best friends I’ve ever had.”

“This is something you’ve looked forward to,” nodded Dorf. “We’re honored to be a part of it.”

The Broodals once again shook hands with their new clients and gathered their things.

“We’ll be in touch,” said Harriet.

“The best of luck to you,” added Spewart.

“Bye, guys,” said Marth. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“It was lovely meeting you, too,” smiled Topper.

Koopa and his guests waved goodbye to the Broodals as they took their leave.

“Well,” said Koopa once the Broodals departed, turning to his guests. “Those pesky plumbers managed to surmount Kamek and Kammy’s little surprise for them, and they’re now fighting through the Dark Lands. They’re expected to arrive at this castle in 6 hours at the earliest and 9 hours at the latest. Let’s make the most out of these 6 to 9 hours, shall we?”

His guests couldn’t have agreed more.

**1.1.1**

Everyone spent the next few hours at their own leisure, from watching movies in Koopa’s home theater, to having fun in his arcade, to taking advantage of his gym and spa and to playing various board games. All of them used the castle’s Wi-Fi to stay in touch with friends in the Smash Mansion or elsewhere. And now that the Mario Bros were reunited, and their cellular and Wi-Fi service was restored, they could heave a big sigh of relief, knowing that Peach was only a few short hours away from rescue.

But the question remained—should they tell those two about this royal wedding?

The Bros were an estimated 4.5 to 7.5 hours away from the castle when Koopa summoned his guests to the dining hall, where a magnificent feast was prepared for them. Salmon, roast chicken, prime rib, casserole, baked potato with all the fixings, rice, sweet potatoes and more—and there was a salad bar to start the whole affair. Happily, the guests gathered around the table and ate their fill, and the Koopa King dined with them, glad over how the day’s events turned out so far.

Peach, seated with them, appeared to be in a better mood than earlier, and maybe that was because her heroes had fought their way through this latest obstacle. She was now attired in a simple, fire-orange cocktail dress, her hair hanging freely in loose curls and held in place by an orange headband. As she ate, she was more likely to partake in conversation with her companions, but she remained sweetly cool toward her captor. If only she knew of Koopa’s plans to once again force a ring onto her finger, and not just any ring—the Binding Band!

But throughout the meal, the guests noticed a restless air beginning to creep across the Mushroom Princess. The heat rose to her face. She gripped her cutlery so tightly her knuckles went white. She bit her lip to the point she drew blood. By the time dessert—chocolate lava cake with a variety of ice creams to top it with—came out, everyone could sense that Peach was about to go mad, and that she wasn’t about to wait an extended amount of time for her favorite pair of blue-collar workers to rescue her. Of those invited to the castle, Vanessa and her family noticed this the most, and once the last of the dessert had been consumed, they decided that it was time to do something about it.

“Your Vileness,” announced Kamek. “Mario and Luigi are 90 minutes out!”

“Thank you, Kamek,” said Koopa. “Attention, guests—now would be a good time to retire to your overnight accommodations. When those plumbers and I go at it, we go at it _hard_. This is different from the Smash tournament; there are no rules when it comes to our confrontations. And anything that can happen—probably _will_ happen.”

“You can say that again,” mused Roy.

Koopa smiled at Peach and offered his arm. “Shall we?” he asked.

Internally bursting with joy and a myriad of other emotions, Peach slipped her arm through her captor’s, and the two of them walked toward the King’s vast bedroom. Vanessa craned her neck, observing the retreating monarchs, before herding Ethan, Anna and Theo to their own room.

About half an hour later, Vanessa opened her door a crack, watching Koopa stroll out of his room with a relax and sated expression on his face, whistling a tune. Once he disappeared downstairs, Vanessa gave her family a thumbs-up, exited her room and crept down the hallway toward Koopa’s bedchambers. In the distance, she could hear various minions preparing for their last stand, but she ignored them, focusing wholly on her mission.

When she reached the King’s bedchambers, her ears caught the sound of Peach gasping, panting and sighing, interspersed with occasional moans. A blush encompassed Vanessa’s face; she knew _exactly_ what Peach was doing. She’d do the same thing sometimes, once the kids were dropped off at school, the hubby was at work and the morning’s chores were done and she had some “me” time before it started up again. Or, she’d do it after having to reprimand and/or discipline one or both of the kids, or after a rare quarrel with Theo or generally after a particularly stressful day. When she heard a distinctive “hum” join the sounds within, she knew that Peach was also using a—device—to aid her.

Deciding not to interrupt Peach’s private moment, Vanessa retreated to her room, where she and her family watched this TV program and that TV program to calm their nerves and psych themselves up.

When they heard Kamek flying around the castle, warning that the Mario Bros were now 45 minutes out, Vanessa decided to try again. Arming herself with a penlight, she started toward Koopa’s bedchambers once again, knocking twice on the doors of her fellow guests and slipping pieces of paper to them along the way. At her destination, all was quiet and still, save for Peach’s breathing. Taking her chances, Vanessa tapped on the door.

“Peach, it’s Vanessa,” she whispered. “May I come in?”

The door opened, Peach’s head and shoulders poking out. Putting a finger to her lips, the Princess invited Vanessa inside.

Vanessa slipped into the room, closing the door after her. She saw that Peach was fully nude, save for a pair of pink socks with hearts on them, modestly covering herself with her hands. Her breathing was a bit labored, and her skin was flushed to a lovely pink hue, sparkling with a fine layer of sweat. Her hair was in a loose ponytail, a curl or two threatening to bob in her face. But she still looked as elegant as ever.

“Sorry about this,” said Peach, indicating her state of dishabille. “I was just about to take a shower when you knocked.”

“That’s okay,” said Vanessa.

“Well, this is it,” said Peach. “In forty-five minutes, my two boys will be here, and I’ll be either on my way back to my castle or doomed to spend the rest of my days as a tyrant’s Queen. Truth is, I really can’t wait 45 more minutes.”

“Or else I wouldn’t be here,” said Vanessa. “Maybe I can help.”

“You’d risk your life for me?” asked Peach.

“Yes. And so would Theo and the kids. We talked it over beforehand.”

Peach smiled and sat on the bed, substituting her hands with a pillow. “Usually, when there’s less than an hour left, that turtle retreats to collect his thoughts,” she said. “After the ten-minute warning is given, he has me put on my pink gown, and then he takes me to the usual battle area and places me in the cage. We—we talk a little before they arrive. And then I just sit back, relax and enjoy the show.”

“Aren’t you worried that—he’ll beat them?” asked Vanessa.

“I’m always worried that he’ll beat them,” said Peach. “The trick is—not to let it get to me. I need to retain a positive outlook and give them strength. I’m not like the distressed damsels in movies or TV, all screaming and hysterical. If I panic, then what good will that do? I need to give my two boys something to fight for.”

“Your two boys? Is that like—your pet name for them?” asked Vanessa.

“30 years of rescues, parties, kart races, sporting events and all sorts of other adventures tend to push people closer and closer,” mused Peach. “Mario and I have fallen deeply in love, and Luigi—he’s like my brother-in-law, even more so that he’s seeing my closest friend. But collectively, Mario and Luigi are my heroes, my boys—and I’ll live and die for them. I even saved _them_, remember?”

Vanessa nodded.

“All right—I’d better get that shower going,” said Peach, rising from the bed and setting the pillow aside.

She stripped off her socks and padded into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. Vanessa heard the shower’s quiet spray and Peach cheerfully humming a tune, and then, an idea came to her.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she called.

“Okay,” Peach called back.

She stepped back into the corridor, checked to see if the coast was clear and dashed through the castle towards the armory. En route, she uncovered the property room, where she surmised Peach’s frying pan, golf club, tennis racket and Parasol would be stashed.

“Hey, Vanessa,” said the property room’s supervisor. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi,” Vanessa said brightly as she strolled up. “Look at my thumb.”

The supervisor obliged. Vanessa threw a whistling right to the supervisor’s jaw, feeling the impact down to her toes. The super dropped instantly, and Vanessa scurried inside, gathered Peach’s things and was out of there inside of 45 seconds. 

“Gee, you’re dumb,” she muttered to the downed super as she left.

Her next stop was the armory, where she grabbed weapons like rapiers, maces, hammers and nightsticks. Once she’d gotten the stuff she wanted, she retraced her steps back to Koopa’s bedchambers.

By the time she returned, Peach had finished with her shower, and she was now clad in a simple, form-fitting, knee-length, spaghetti-strap pink dress. The Princess glanced up and smiled at Vanessa as she brushed her hair and swept it up into a sleek, athletic ponytail.

“I have your stuff,” said Vanessa, giving Peach her frying pan, Parasol, golf club and tennis racket.

“Thanks,” said Peach as she tucked her items away.

“And—I grabbed us some more weapons from the armory,” added Vanessa.

She spread the weapons on the bed, the two women carefully making their selections.

“My sports equipment and Parasol can hold me over,” said Peach. “Not to mention my Peach Bomber. But just in case, yeah?”

“Just in case,” nodded Vanessa.

“One last question before we go,” said Peach as she slid a pair of comfy socks onto her feet and then laced up in a pair of equally comfy sneakers. “Do you like Lynyrd Skynyrd?”

“I like—some of their songs,” replied Vanessa. “Why?”

“Because now,” smiled Peach, “I’m feeling like a _free bird_.”

Vanessa shared her smile as the duo quietly slipped out of the King’s bedchambers.

“Here,” whispered Peach as she gave Vanessa a pair of her high-heeled shoes. “You might need these, too.”

“All right,” said Vanessa. “We’ll fight our way out of this castle, and then we’ll go from there.”

“I know a shortcut,” said Peach. “Follow me.”

Bravely, Peach led Vanessa down the castle hallways. However, Vanessa wasn’t about to let her take point, walking beside her with those high-heeled shoes at the ready.

“How do you know about this shortcut?” asked Vanessa.

“I’ve tried to escape numerous times, remember?” winked Peach.

“Well—this time, you’ve got help,” said Vanessa.

“And I appreciate that,” Peach said softly.

They walked a considerable distance without incident. Then—

“Oh, boy,” said Vanessa as she and Peach slowed to a stop. “Here comes trouble.”

A large crowd of Koopa Troopas and Hammer Bros stood before them, feet shoulder-width apart, arms folded across their chests.

“Excuse me, ladies,” said a Red Shell, “but just _where_ do you think you’re going?”

Vanessa brandished her improvised weapons. “Princess Peach is my best friend, and I’m busting her out of here,” she determinedly replied.

The army of minions laughed.

“You won’t even make it past half of us,” chortled a Green Shell.

“Try me,” retorted Vanessa.

“Don’t worry, Vanessa,” Peach said coolly. “I got your back.”

As the minions snapped into their fighting stances, the Mushroom Princess launched herself forward with her Peach Bomber attack, knocking back enemies by the scores.

“All right! Let’s play!” shouted a Hammer Bro, the rest of the minions charging forward.

With a battle cry, Peach and Vanessa raced into battle, easily knocking attackers away. While the latter used the high-heeled shoes as dual clubs, the former made good use of her Parasol, frying pan and various sports equipment, also plucking turnips and the occasional Bob-omb from the ground and flinging it at the minions. Both women also fought with punches, kicks and elbow strikes, stunning the Koopa Troopas and hurling their shells like Frisbees into hordes of enemies, knocking them down like bowling pins. They cleaved their way through all of their opponents without breaking a sweat and continued on their way, only to encounter more Hammer Bros, accompanied by Charging Chucks and Lakitus.

“Bring it on!” the women shouted in tandem.

Meanwhile, Koopa was distracted by the sounds of the raging battle.

“What in the name of…?” he grumbled, stepping outside to investigate.

“Your Grace!” shouted a Mushroom Defector, running over. “The Princess—she’s escaping! And Vanessa’s helping her!”

Koopa unleashed a mighty roar. “Let’s do something about it, then!” he thundered.

Elsewhere, the other guests stepped out of their rooms and watched Vanessa and Peach fighting their way toward the exit, the latter having tossed the former her golf club as tougher enemies attempted to impede them. As the fight heated up, Peach began utilizing more of her Smash skills, not hesitating to fight pragmatically when the need arose. Nobody would stand between her and sweet freedom—nobody! While not a Smasher, Vanessa more than held her own, using the high heels, the golf club, her fists, her feet, her purse—and even her keys as makeshift knuckle dusters! Everyone else gawked at them for a full minute, and then Marth galvanized them into action.

“There’s our opportunity!” he cried, unsheathing Falchion. “Let’s take it!”

“I’m with you there!” shouted Roy, drawing the Sword of Seals. “Charge!”

With that, most of the remaining guests, led by the Smashers, surged forward to help Peach and Vanessa. Marth utilized his Dancing Blade, Tipper, Counter and his other sword skills, and Roy fought alongside him with fire-infused attacks. Dark Pit attacked primarily with his Dual Blades, but he also battled the incoming minions with his archery skills, Electro-shock Boosters and his shields. Chad lashed out with swift martial arts moves and weaponized anything he could get his hands on, while Rolf and Kyle used their skills as a Mii Gunner and a Mii Swordfighter, respectively. Chase brought his signature Mii Brawler style to the table. Mewtwo used his Shadow Balls, teleportation, Confusion and other telekinetic attacks, to super effect, while Falco fought with kicks and wing strikes, firing off long-ranged shots from his Blaster, kicking out his Reflector to defend his fellow guests and using his Fire Bird and Falco Phantasm to plow through adversaries right and left.

Those who weren’t Smashers didn’t let that fact stop them from giving this fight their all. Vince, Manny, Shane and Stuart fought as a unit, holding off Koopa’s minions with punches, kicks, shoulder charges, knee and elbow strikes, karate chops and even a headbutt or two. They knocked Koopa Troopas out of their shells before punting those shells at their enemies. And when the minions turned up the heat, the four brothers armed themselves with weapons like poles, two-by-fours, swords and spears. Theo used common household products, like his spray-on deodorant, shaving cream and cologne, along with punches and kicks, to help Vanessa, while Anna and Ethan bashed enemies with their lunchboxes and backpacks and found all sorts of projectiles to throw. Even Sakurai found things to improvise as weapons, such as his briefcase.

The fierce battle was interrupted by a resounding roar.

Koopa had arrived on the scene, and he was none-too-happy.

“Are you serious?!” he interjected. “You could’ve at least waited for those pesky plumbers to show up!”

“Sorry, man,” said Chase. “While we had our issues with Luigi, we’ll always come down on the right side, and as long as the Super Mario Bros are alive, you know good and d—n well which side that is.”

Koopa’s eyes swept over the people standing against him, and then he smirked. “So be it,” he said.

Signaling his minions to stand down, Koopa strode forward. “Ethan—Anna—go find a shady spot,” he said.

Vanessa nodded to Theo and the kids. “Go,” she said quietly. “I can handle him.”

Giving Koopa a warning look, Theo hastened Anna and Ethan to safety.

And then the battle resumed.

Both sides attacked with everything they had. The fearsome Koopa King belched fire, slashed and swiped with his claws, spun around in his shell, ground-pounded and performed his signature Flying Slam attack. Marth, Roy, Kyle and Dark Pit expertly countered with their swords, Rolf and Falco relied mainly on gunplay and the rest fought hand-to-hand or with improvised weapons. Peach, usually the one requiring rescue in this situation, was in the thick of the fighting, leading with her Peach Bomber, her Parasol and her turnips and following up with strikes from her frying pan and tennis racket, mixed in with stinging slaps, kicks and punches. Next to her, Vanessa fought with equal ferocity, using the golf club Peach gave her, what she grabbed from the armory and the skills she’d learned from the self-defense classes she frequently took. Koopa gave just as much as he took, of course, but it quickly turned into a losing battle on his side as numbers prevailed over his awesome might.

Peach whipped out a perfume bottle and sent a spray of her favorite fragrance directly into her captor’s eyes. Vanessa followed suit with her own perfume, and then she smashed her knee hard into his groin. Just to make sure, Peach sent the heel of her hand into the base of Koopa’s chin and swung her Parasol with all her strength, landing an impressive blow to his jaw.

Koopa fell to the ground, writhing in pain.

“No fair!” he objected.

“This isn’t the Smash tournament,” Peach said sweetly as she and Vanessa stepped behind the monstrous turtle and grabbed his tail. “There are _no_ rules here. Anything that can happen—_will_ happen.”

Together, the two ladies hoisted their opponent into the air, joined by the other Smashers and then everyone else. They swung Koopa round and round, faster and faster and faster, before letting go on Peach’s command. The King was sent flying through the air and crashed hard into a wall before sliding onto the ground, groaning.

“We’ll keep him busy, Princess,” said Vince. “Just run for the exit! And don’t look back!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” said Peach. “C’mon, Vanessa!”

Hand-in-hand, Vanessa and Peach dashed closer and closer to freedom, quickly subduing any minion who tried to stop them. When they reached the castle’s double doors, Peach blew them right off their hinges with her Peach Bomber, and then the two ladies sprinted across the drawbridge, leaving Koopa Castle in their wake.

“Wow,” breathed Peach. “I’ve never made it this far before.”

They turned as a car horn honked, and Theo drove up to them in a convertible, Ethan and Anna securely buckled in the backseat.

“Hop in,” said Theo, flashing a high-wattage smile.

Peach and Vanessa climbed in, finding the vehicle stocked to the brim with Splat Guns.

“Where…?” Peach started to ask.

“The Inkling Kids,” Theo explained. “I called in a few favors.”

“Now _that’s_ what I’m talking about,” said Peach, grabbing and priming the first Splat Gun she saw.

Vanessa and the kids also picked their Splat Guns, and Theo had one laying across his lap.

They turned as more minions streamed out of the castle.

“Time to go,” said Theo, stepping on the gas and peeling out.

All of the passengers sprang into action, splattering their pursuers with pink, red, green and purple paint. Occasionally, Theo would join the fray with orange paint. The radio was turned up as loud as the car’s occupants could bear, and everyone was laughing joyfully in spite of the dangerous situation.

“We should do this more often!” chuckled Ethan as he slid a new cartridge of paint into his Splat Gun.

Soon, Koopa’s minions could only yell and shake their fists at the escapees as the car sped further and further away. Once the vehicle was fully out of range, they returned to the castle, hoping to at least aid their King in dealing with the Smashers and other guests.

Unfortunately, they, too, had also decided to take their leave.

“Sorry we won’t be staying the night,” said Vince as they also borrowed a car to make their escape. “We’ll send for our things.”

“For what it’s worth,” added Manny, “we really enjoyed ourselves today.”

Koopa let out a huff, but he let them go.

“You were lucky,” he grumbled once they were out of earshot.

**1.1.1**

Theo was guiding the convertible down the road when he and his passengers spotted two familiar plumbers.

“Hey! It’s them!” exclaimed Vanessa.

Slowing to a stop, Theo pulled over and honked the horn to get the Bros’ attention.

“Evening, you two,” he greeted. “Need a ride?”

Mario’s eyes widened. “Peachy!” he cried.

“Mario!” Peach joyfully shouted, giving a wave.

“You guys—rescued her?” breathed Luigi.

“Actually, she rescued herself,” said Vanessa. “We helped her escape.”

“There was an opportunity,” added Peach, “and we jumped at it.”

“The other Smashers pitched in, too,” said Theo.

“Are they still in the castle?” asked Luigi.

“They stayed behind so Peach and I could get away,” said Vanessa.

“Then—we gotta help them!” exclaimed Mario.

“Wait,” said Theo, whipping out his phone. “I just got a text from them. They just left, and are en route to the Smash Mansion. Koopa allowed them to leave peacefully.” He pocketed the phone. “Fancy that.”

Peach, Ethan and Anna scooted over to give the Mario Bros room. As soon as the two plumbers were in the car, Mario took Peach in his arms, and they kissed.

Then, Peach and the family of four looked over the two heroes, taking in their battered states.

“Oh, my God,” gasped Peach. “You two went through Hell to try and rescue me!”

“When we found out that Kamek and Kammy separated you, we couldn’t stop worrying,” Theo put in.

“What on Earth happened?” asked Vanessa.

“We’ll talk about that later,” said Mario. “Okay?”

“We’re gonna hold you to that,” said Theo as he pulled back onto the main road.

Five minutes later, the Dark Lands were in the rearview mirror, and they all were headed toward familiar pastures.

About 40 minutes after departing the Dark Lands, they came across another car, occupied by Toad retainers.

“Hi, there!” called the driver. “Where are you guys headed? The Smash Mansion or Peach’s Castle?”

Theo turned to Peach and her heroes. “Where do you wanna go?”

Mario bit his lip. “The Smash Mansion,” he replied.

Theo passed this along to the Toad retainers, and the driver beamed.

“Follow us,” said the driver. “We know a better route.”

The Toad retainers drove off, and Theo followed closely behind.

It was a pleasant ride back to the Smash Mansion, everyone listening to tunes on the radio as dark and barren gave way to lush and bright. Peach and Mario stared lovingly at each other, stealing kisses from time to time. Ethan and Anna gazed at the scenery around them, the car’s motion eventually sending them to sleep. Luigi also reclined in the backseat, watching over his bro and Peach, relieved that everything had turned out all right.

Eventually, Mario snuggled against Peach and dozed off, allowing the latter to call Master Hand and inform him that she and her heroes were on their way. A few texts later, word spread that another crisis had ended and good had once again prevailed. The Toad retainers, excluding the one driving the car, of course, also set to work informing the public of this good fortune. Almost instantly, Peach’s phone blew up with texts inquiring as to her well-being, and the Bros’ phones were flooded with thank-you texts. The notifications didn’t wake Mario, so Luigi responded to them, truthfully explaining what had happened.

“Vanessa,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“You, Theo and the kids spared me and my bro a lot of pain and injuries,” said Luigi.

“We didn’t do it to be heroes,” said Vanessa. “We did it because—it was right. Peach was getting restless, and I could sense that she wanted to try and escape. I was just in the right place at the right time, you know?”

“I know,” Luigi told her. “You saw a chance to help, and you took it. Respect.”

Vanessa blushed.

Mario stirred awake soon after, followed by Anna and Ethan, and they all stopped at the drive-thru of a fast food restaurant before continuing the rest of the way to the Smash Mansion.

Master Hand, Crazy Hand, the rest of the Smashers and quite a few Toads were already lined up when the two cars carrying the Toad retainers and Peach and her heroes glided to a smooth stop in the Smash Mansion’s driveway. Thunderous applause greeted them, and Mii valets opened the doors for the second car, allowing Mario to help Peach out. He then gave her his arm, and the two of them walked toward the entrance as Miis, Toads and Smashers alike swarmed the pair, cheering for Mario and giving him handshakes, hugs and celebratory pats on the back.

And Luigi, Theo, Vanessa and the kids? Crickets.

Ethan’s mouth was agape as he observed the scene before him. “H—hey! Wait a minute!” he exclaimed.

Luigi stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Just—don’t,” he said quietly.

The quintet watched as the crowd sang Mario’s praises, following him and Peach into the Smash Mansion. The man in green and the family of four all but forgotten.

Vanessa had made it clear that she didn’t help Peach escape for the glory or the fifteen minutes of fame, and neither had Theo. However, at least _some_ acknowledgment would’ve been nice.

The Smash Mansion’s doors closed behind the retreating group, leaving the five seated in the car in silence.

“All’s well that ends well, I suppose,” Theo said after a while.

Anna nodded. “Best. Family outing. Ever,” she opined.

However, Ethan was distraught, more distraught than the day Mario lost to Luigi in a Smash battle. “B—but,” he spluttered. “He—he didn’t…”

“Ethan…” sighed Vanessa.

Ethan slumped against the backseat. “He didn’t do anything,” he mumbled.

Luigi regarded the teen with a sad smile. He knew the feeling all too well.

_Welcome to the club_, he thought.


	27. T Plus 26 Days

Everyone in the Smash Mansion breathed a little easier now that Peach was safe and sound. And not only that, she’d actually fought her way out, with some help, but still. Master Hand allowed her, along with the Mario Bros, to sleep in, deciding not to put them in matches until after lunch the next day. The Smashers who had helped Peach pull off her daring escape were also commended, along with the Bennigan Brothers, Mr. Sakurai and Vanessa and her brood. MH had also brought Mario and Luigi to the infirmary, where Dr. Mario had looked over the injuries they’d sustained. Their bruises were iced, and their burns and cuts were disinfected and bandaged. Tiredly, they’d bid everyone good night and headed to their rooms, and they were asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows.

They slumbered well into the night and into the next morning, awakening at around 11a.m. Their sleep had worked wonders, as their wounds had almost completely healed. In addition, their moods were sunnier and their energy was restored. The Super Mario Bros were ready to take on the day ahead of them!

Once they were freshened up and attired in their usual clothes, Master Hand led the Bros to his office, where Peach, Link and Zelda joined them.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” said MH once everyone was seated with a mug of hot cocoa. “Rest assured, I shall deal with Koopa upon his return. However, there’s a more pressing matter that must be attended to.”

“You got him?” asked Peach.

“I threw my dear brother some bait, and he fell into my trap,” said MH. “Of course, Luigi knows a little about that. He had the immense pleasure of making Amy’s acquaintance.”

“Is she okay?” asked Luigi.

“Yes,” replied MH. “She’s returned to Seattle. However, before she departed, she indicated an interest in joining this tournament and facing you in battle again.”

Luigi smiled.

“Jimmy, Timmy, Remy, Rory, Charlie, Chad and I worked together to implicate my brother, along with the two Steves and Mr. Sakurai,” MH went on. “I’m allowing Mr. Sakurai to rest, given that yesterday was pretty trying for him. However, I’d like to give you the chance to confront the two Steves and my brother. Would you like to do so today, or would you like to wait a while?”

“We need closure,” Zelda said softly. “We need to know why they did what they did.”

“Very well,” said MH. Pressing a button on his intercom, he commanded, “Bring them in.”

MH and his visitors waited patiently. Hardly a minute later, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory walked in, escorting Crazy Hand, Steve and Stevie. CH was still enclosed in a sphere, and as a precaution, the two Steves were in handcuffs. Mario, Luigi, Peach, Zelda and Link glared stonily at the three.

“Please, sit,” said MH.

Glowering, the three obliged.

“So,” said MH. “Is there anything you’d like to say to these five wonderful Smashers?”

CH and the two Steves gazed at the quintet.

Stevie’s eyes blazed with hatred. “Your brother is a pig,” he spat at Mario. “A f—ing _pig_!”

Mario would’ve leapt out of his seat and onto Stevie had Luigi not taken his hand.

“So many people have insulted me that I’ve forgotten all of their names,” Luigi said coldly. “I’ve been castigated, vilified, overshadowed, laughed at, terrorized, threatened and even beaten and tortured. A lesser man would’ve broken down, but not me. Because I have him.” He indicated Mario. “I have them.” He indicated Link, Zelda and Peach. “I have friends who never left my side. And I have faith. Not just in the Star Spirits, but in myself—and in God. I’m no longer ashamed of who I am—and you can’t frighten me.”

“Or me,” added Peach.

“Or me,” snapped Zelda.

“Me, neither,” Link led the charge.

“When you attacked me in the Training Area,” said Luigi, “tell me—did it make you feel big? Did it make you feel like _men_? Did it feel good, ganging up on someone after taking a cheap shot at them? Because to me, it didn’t.”

“Did it feel good?” Steve repeated. “You’re d—n right it did. Stevie and I made you remember your place!”

“And where is that?” Luigi asked in an acid tone. “Hiding under my bed? Cowering in the corner and waiting for Mario to fight my battles? You actually think I’m _that_ weak and helpless?”

Mario rested a hand on his bro’s shoulder, having calmed down. “I fell violently ill once,” he said, “with Bean Fever, after eating some food from the Beanbean Kingdom. I wasn’t adjusted to their cuisine, so that’s why I got sick. Do you know who cured me? Luigi. The only antidote to Bean Fever was in Guffawha Ruins, a place crawling with monsters. And Luigi journeyed there. By himself. He fought those monsters, retrieved the antidote and saved my life. Once my fever broke, the first thing I did was hug Luigi.

“And that wasn’t the only time he saved my life. There was an enemy more psychopathic than the Koopa King, one who didn’t have his sense of fair play or a moral code. An enemy who completely overpowered me and threw me into a prison from which I couldn’t escape, who subjected me to hours of physical and psychological torture. For the first time since becoming a hero of the MK, I was—helpless. And I would’ve given up, too, if it hadn’t been for Luigi. When I first saw him peeking in through the mouth of a lion statue, I began to hope again. And when he marched in, armed and ready to fight my captor, I put all of my faith in him. He finished up heavily injured and in great pain, but he did it. He rescued me. He faced his worst fears for me. Once I was freed, we cried and cried in each other’s arms. Twelve years later, he faced his worst fears for me a second time. And he’s told those who asked that he’d do it again. And again and again and again. Now, what do you think of _that_?”

The two Steves said nothing.

“You think you’re tough, but I don’t see you doing anything like that,” Mario went on. “If anything, you would’ve traded someone else’s life for your own.”

“And if anyone here is a pig, then it’s you,” said Peach. “You waited until Luigi’s back was turned to attack him. You enjoyed ganging up on me, Zelda and Link during our free-for-all. But when Mario came after you…” She spread her hands. “You have the bark, but you don’t have the bite. Mario told me that he had you on the ground in an instant, and you barely tried to defend yourselves.” She disgustedly shook her head. “You two are cowards, plain and simple. Beating up women, beating up people whose backs are turned—and after that disaster of a free-for-all, what did you do? You ran away, rather than man up and face the consequences. I think that’s why you wanted Luigi nerfed. To make yourselves look bigger and stronger than you really are.”

“Not only that,” Zelda joined in, “but also you tried to terrorize a remorseful man into compliance. You knew that if he confessed, then your little façade would go flying out the window. It got to the point that he had to hold a secret meeting in order to confess. But he’s seen you for who you really are, and so have we, and guess what? You have no power whatsoever over our lives.”

“You’re nothing but a pair of glorified bullies,” added Link, “and the Smash World has little tolerance for bullies. Especially those who target women. But mark my words—you’ll never hurt Zelda again.”

“And you’ll never hurt Peach again,” vowed Mario.

“They should’ve thought of that before sticking their noses where they don’t belong,” growled Stevie.

“As in ‘gaining wind of a despicable plot against me’?” challenged Luigi.

“As in ‘trying to warn me of an unprovoked attack’?” added Mario.

He turned a fiery gaze on Crazy Hand. “Speaking of which…”

“My hands are clean in this,” CH broke in. “Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“You helped finance this plot to have me nerfed,” Luigi said evenly. “Why? What interest was my playstyle to you?”

“I just—figured you needed tweaking,” said CH.

“No—you were upset that I could hold my own against you—just like everyone else,” charged Luigi. “I bested your brother in 1999, and he didn’t complain. In fact, he was impressed.”

MH nodded.

“You certainly lived up to your title as the Hand of Destruction,” said Luigi. “Because of your actions, the first few days of this month were a living Hell. I was teased relentlessly because of my nerf and used as a punching bag both on and off the battlefield. Was that what you wanted?”

“No,” said CH. “I just prefer chaos over order.”

“Well, we don’t,” retorted Luigi. “I was put through a lot of b.s. because of what you did. And you put my bro through more b.s. to try and cover your tracks. You sent four men after him. You had the two Steves launch a smear campaign against him, and you arranged for them to send Peach to the infirmary because she tried to warn him about that ambush. Then, because Link and Zelda eavesdropped on three people talking about Project Nerf, you had the two Steves beat them up, too. And if I hadn’t spent my period of suspension in Evershade Valley, then you probably would’ve sicced them on me, too. What are they, your attack dogs?”

“We were looking out for common interests,” said CH.

“That’s what you call this mess?” Luigi demanded of them. “Do you feel even the _slightest_ hint of remorse for the chain of events you set off?”

“I assure you, I had no idea that those four guys would go overboard when dealing with Mario,” said CH.

“We didn’t mean to,” Rory broke in. “It just happened. And we’ve regretted it ever since. Mario—you’re flawed, but you’re a good man. And if you’re enough of a hero for your brother and for the MK, then you’re enough of a hero for us.”

“Why would he choose you?” asked Mario.

“Maybe because—we lead Master Hand’s personal security,” postulated Remy. “He didn’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

“So, he tried to make four additional attack dogs out of you,” said Mario.

“Guess so,” sighed Jimmy.

“Frankly, I don’t know whether to call you MH’s attack dogs—or his spies,” Mario said crisply.

“We’re the top members of his personal security team,” said Timmy. “And for what it’s worth—we’re truly sorry for attacking you like that.”

“CH manipulated you,” said Mario. “I get it. But it still doesn’t excuse the things you said.”

The four men gazed at each other.

“What’s it gonna take for you to forgive us?” asked Jimmy. “Completely?”

“Well,” replied Mario. “We’ll just have to see.

“But you,” he said to Crazy Hand, “I’m hardly likely to forgive. I sat there and watched Steve and Stevie whale on my _Principessa_ on your behalf, along with one of my best friends and his _Principessa_. And while you weren’t behind the attack on my bro, it happened as a result of your selfish actions. Because of you, Luigi needlessly suffered. Because of you, a bunch of people did a bunch of s—y things to him, and it’s unlikely that he’ll fully recover. I really hope you’re proud of yourself, Crazy Hand, because it looks like you got what you wanted.”

“Having two of your Smashers attack their fellow Smashers in a tournament you’re supposed to help supervise is beneath you,” said Zelda. “But you know what? Link, Peach and I recovered, and we’re ready to move on with our lives. As for you—I hope this weighs on your head for all eternity.” Pointing at the two Steves, she added, “And that goes double for your two loyal henchmen.”

“You wanna know something funny?” asked Luigi. “In spite of all this, I’m still standing. You thought you could send me running back home by taking away my combos? You thought wrong. I’ll just start from scratch and make more combos. Starting this afternoon, I’ll fight my opponents more fiercely than ever, and I’ll show everyone that there’s more to me than my down throw. That ought to give you something to chew on.” He rose from his seat. “I have nothing more to say to you. You have yourselves a nice day.” On that remark, he turned on his heel and strode out of the office.

“What’s gonna happen to them?” asked Mario.

“I haven’t decided yet,” replied MH, “but they _will_ face the music for their actions.”

“See that they do,” Mario said, a little tightly, “or you’ll feel a backlash the likes of which you’ve never felt before.”

And then he, too, was gone.

MH turned to Peach. “Will you be okay fighting this afternoon?”

Peach nodded. “I may be a damsel in distress, but I’m not weak,” she said. “Thank you for your concern, though.”

“Yeah,” said Zelda. “I think—I think we’re gonna be okay.”

“Things are gonna get better,” smiled Link. “We just have to wait.”

“I suppose you’re right,” said MH.

He watched as Link, Zelda and Peach left his office. Then, he had Jimmy, Timmy, Rory and Remy escort Crazy Hand and the two Steves out.

**1.1.1**

Luigi’s return to the Smash Battlefield was met with a generally sunny reception. There were some Smashers who didn’t miss squaring off against him, but most of the Smashers _did_. The arena was filled to capacity as Luigi’s first match in 16 days began, and his opponent was none other than—Kyle, one of the people who’d wanted him nerfed.

As mentioned previously, the turnout was overwhelming. The stands were practically crammed with Luigi fans and superfans, about half of them dressed up like him. Mario sat in his usual spot, and joining him were Peach, Lauren, Eden, Theo, Vanessa, Ethan and Anna. Falco sat several rows behind them, and next to him was Chad. And the four Bennigan Brothers sat one section away, eager to see how Luigi would handle his first opponent in over two weeks.

Kyle quickly racked up damage on the man in green, but Luigi soon found his rhythm, beginning to land light but fierce blows on the Mii Swordfighter. Rather than getting frustrated, Kyle began to adjust his strategy, switching to a defensive stance and patiently waiting for a chance to retake the lead. He was a far cry from the entitled Smasher constantly complaining over Luigi defeating him all the time.

Here and there, Luigi tossed out simple combos. Up tilt to up smash, forward throw to dash attack. He dropped to the ground and attacked Kyle’s footwork with tripping kicks and his down smash. He utilized more of the moves he knew had been buffed, such as his Cyclone and his downward aerial attack. And he frequently threw out his jump-kicking attack and buzzed around Kyle, battering him with knifehand strikes. Keeping the pressure on, staying on the offensive and barely giving his foe time to get a strike in edgewise.

And then he grabbed Kyle, slammed him down and delivered a forward knifehand strike to the stomach. Kyle doubled over, gasping for breath, allowing Luigi to grab and Ground-Pound him again, this time following up with his Cyclone.

“There you go!” cheered Mario. “There you go, Luigi!”

Excited buzzing grew audible among the spectators as Luigi started fighting more aggressively, gaining enough wind in his sails to try out his new combos. Kyle would get some slashes in, but Luigi chose to ignore the pain, setting up combos with simple, swift punches and maybe even a fireball.

“Go, Luigi, go!” shouted Lauren.

Thus encouraged, Luigi Ground-Pounded Kyle once more, following up with an up smash. Kyle’s percentage was too high to attempt his old down throw to double f-air, so he tried out another new combo: down throw to b-air to u-air. Kyle retaliated with several furious slashes, sending him to the ground, but he got back up and served up some payback with a smattering of hefty smash attacks, topping it off with a Super Jump Punch, taking Kyle’s stock.

“Look at him go!” laughed Ethan.

The spectators’ buzzing became full-on cheering. They knew that the 16-day break had done its job. Luigi had gotten his thoughts in order, and now he’d returned, ready to show spectators and Smashers alike what he could still do. When Kyle respawned, the two combatants circled one another, Luigi dodging one slash, and then another, before closing in with two fireballs, several body blows, and finally a grab and a pummel.

After that, he reminded everyone that his down throw to double f-air still worked, just at lower percentages. He pulled off this combo twice before following up his next butt-slam with a f-air and an upwards bicycle kick. Gradually, the combos lengthened and the sweat began to fly, a familiar flush materializing on his cheeks. No doubt about it, he was coming back swinging!

“Hey, M,” said Theo.

“Yeah?” replied Mario.

“I know you and L were looking forward to whaling the snot out of that turtle,” said Theo, “seeing that he was involved in Project Nerf—not to mention that he grabbed Peach shortly after your little run-in with those four guys. But Vanessa and I—we just had to do what we had to do, y’know?”

“No harm done,” Mario told him. “This latest go-round took a lot out of us, and we were still a little shaken from our experience in World 5. Had we faced off with that turtle, it wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“Still—we wanna make it up to you,” said Theo. Then, his face brightened. “Hey—I have an idea. How about we have lunch tomorrow? Just us two guys?”

“I’ll have to check my matchup schedule,” said Mario, “but I’m up for that. What restaurant do you have in mind?”

“I know this totally awesome seafood place right next to Lake Merritt in Oakland,” said Theo. “It’s called Lake Chalet. What do you say we meet at around—1p.m.?”

“I’ll talk to Master Hand, shall I?” replied Mario.

“Okay,” said Theo.

“And I’ll also talk to my bro,” added Mario. “If he’s fighting a particularly intimidating opponent, I’ll need to be here to give him my support.”

“Understood,” said Theo.

“I’ll keep the kids busy,” Vanessa chimed in. “I’ll take them to the park. And then we’ll get ice cream.”

“Yay! Ice cream!” cheered Anna.

They turned back toward the action in time to see Luigi kick Kyle off his feet, grab him and then combo his down throw into a double u-air and then a f-air. Mario frowned lightly when he saw the bruises and sword slashes marring his baby bro. But the man in green didn’t appear _too_ impeded by those injuries; he was more breathless than anything else, but still fighting on.

“I’ve really missed this,” murmured Mario.

“So have I,” said Peach.

They fell silent as Luigi pulled off his most ambitious combo to date. Down throw into triple f-air and u-air, fast-fall into u-tilt and double f-air. It was a combo that _really_ had tongues wagging, people speculating over just how long Luigi had spent practicing to get _that_ beast nice and polished. Just as the spectators recovered their breath, they watched him play around some more with his jump-kick, throwing it out of a short hop rather than a full jump and effortlessly segueing it into a d-air and a b-air, or a u-air and a Cyclone. And then he fiddled around with his u-air, following it up with a u-tilt, another u-air and a b-air, eventually extending it into a u-air to u-tilt to u-air to f-air, and finally a u-air to u-tilt to u-air to Cyclone.

Falco, Chad, the Bennigan Brothers and the participants of Project Nerf sat in contemplative silence as Luigi and Kyle battled. The former certainly had a steadier footing than during the first few days of the update patch. His muscle memory was no longer getting in the way, and he was no longer at a gross disadvantage. He could stand up to the Mii’s sword with his fists, feet and fireballs, and he could care less about what his detractors thought of him. Throughout the match, he pieced together interesting combos involving lesser-known moves, even starting from simple jabs and spin-kicks. If Kyle managed to escape a combo, then he didn’t dwell on it for long. He fought defensively until he regrouped, and then he tried again. When he took Kyle’s next stock with a down throw to f-air to up-B, he felt especially accomplished.

“You see that?” crowed Eden. “You dumped on him and got him nerfed for nothing!”

“She’s right,” Falco whispered to Chad, who nodded.

Smash attacks flew between the two opponents before Luigi took a deep breath, grabbed Kyle, slammed him down and faked a f-air before surprising him with a jump-kick and a Cyclone. Mario was positively beaming at his clever lil’ bro, but the surprises didn’t end there. The man in green started using his Smash attacks as springboards for viable setups, pulling off combos involving more than one grab and throw. His down smash, in particular, stunned Kyle long enough for a re-grab. Toward the end of the bout, Luigi _really_ mixed things up, utilizing his forward throw, his special moves, his pummels and all of his tilts. Kyle deflected and countered and generally did what he can, but at this point, he was finished.

Soon, the Mii Swordfighter was down to his last stock, while Luigi had only lost two. Both combatants were breathing hard and giving it everything they had. But in Kyle’s eyes, there was newfound respect for Luigi. The guy had withstood everything the swordsman had thrown at him and demonstrated remarkable cleverness and creativity. Perhaps that was what made him so easy to befriend. Maybe if the Mii hadn’t been so fixated on those combos, he would’ve earned Luigi’s friendship, as well. But it was too late for that—or was it?

Kyle managed to force Luigi to the ledge, only for the latter to flip himself back up, grab the former, Ground-Pound him and end the match with one last, fierce combo—a down-throw to n-air and a mighty Super Jump Punch. He watched as Kyle flew skyward into the upper blast line. And then he closed his eyes and exhaled as he heard MH’s booming voice utter those two fateful words:

“GAME SET!”

**1.1.1**

Luigi was pleasantly surprised when Kyle offered a handshake once his victory was announced.

“Great job out there,” Kyle said sincerely.

“Thanks,” said Luigi.

“I’d like us to start fresh and be friends,” Kyle went on.

“And I’d like that, too,” smiled Luigi. “Just be careful around Mario, okay?”

“Okay,” said Kyle.

Kyle hurried off toward the locker room, and Luigi turned as Mario dashed forward and enveloped him in a hug.

“It’s good to have you back on the battlefield, Bro,” Mario said softly.

Luigi held Mario close. “It’s good to _be_ back,” he replied.

They separated and exchanged broad smiles.

“See you later,” said Mario.

“Okeydokey,” replied Luigi.

As Mario took his leave, Luigi’s phone rang.

He answered with a breathy “Hello?”

“Hi, sweetie!” chirped Daisy’s voice. “I just saw you on TV, and—wow!”

“I know, right?” laughed Luigi. “I kinda surprised myself back there.”

“However, that’s not the only reason why I called,” said Daisy, her voice turning serious.

“What happened?” asked Luigi.

“I found the mole who leaked the info about Chad’s secret meeting to Mr. Sakurai,” said Daisy. “Turns out, he was one of my personal bodyguards. The second I found out, I had him seized and taken into custody. I need some advice, Luigi. What do you think I should do with him?”

Luigi thought it over. “Call Master Hand,” he said. “Have him arrange the mole’s transport to the Smash Mansion. I’m confident that we can win him over to our side.”

“Consider it done,” said Daisy.

“And Daisy?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t hurt him—too badly.”

“I can’t promise you anything.”

Luigi giggled. “That’s the Daisy I know,” he said. “But seriously—try to keep it together. I know you want to jump to my defense, but…”

“I see what you’re saying. But don’t worry—no bones will be broken.”

“Great. Love you, Daisy.”

“Love you, too. Bye.”

The call ended, and Luigi headed toward the showers, hoping to get some relaxation in before his next match.

**1.1.1**

Crazy Hand sat at his desk, fuming, a prisoner in his own office. This was _far_ from how things were supposed to work out. He thought he’d had a tight leash on Chad, but obviously, he’d thought wrong. Now that Chad had defied him and the two Steves, exposed them, and told them off, everything he’d carefully built was tumbling down around him, and there wasn’t anything he could do about it. At this rate, he could only pray that he’d be able to keep his job.

His phone rang, and he answered with a curt “Smash Mansion, Crazy Hand speaking.”

“Hello, Crazy Hand,” said the voice on the other end. “I’m one of Mr. Sakurai’s bodyguards. We found the mole.”

“It was Jeff, wasn’t it?” hissed CH.

“It was Jeff.”

“I should’ve known,” huffed CH. “Always willing to accommodate us, always loyal to Mr. S. It was almost too good to be true.”

“What should be our next move, Crazy Hand?”

“Do with him as you will,” CH said sinisterly. “Make him an example. Show him that there are consequences to knifing his boss in the back.”

“Will do.”

CH hung up and reclined in his chair. If he was on his way down, then he’d go down in a blaze of glory. Sweet revenge would be had. And everyone in the Smash World and beyond would know the power of the Hand of Destruction.

**1.1.1**

“Seriously? Mr. S offers you a well-paying job, and you thank him by throwing it in his face? You didn’t actually think you’d get away with it, did you?”

Ominously, Reggie circled his prisoner, stripped to the waist and bound hand-and-foot to a swivel chair. Blood was smeared on the prisoner’s face, and he was covered in bruises. But despite his predicament, Jeff wasn’t concerned for his own safety—only Chad’s and Charlie’s.

“You were well on your way to a promotion, Jeff,” Reggie went on, applying ice to his cut and battered knuckles. “I can’t believe you’d throw it all away. And for who? Chad Wrainwright?”

“He was already regretting his actions,” Jeff said bravely. “Crazy Hand had no reason to torment him further.”

“Chad was a whiny saltlord who was answering for his actions,” Reggie shot back.

“Says the man who answers to the one who blamed Luigi for his financial misfortune?” snapped Jeff. “All I hear is the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Well,” Reggie said sweetly. “To each his own.”

Reggie’s phone sang out, and he smiled at Jeff. “I have to take this phone call,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Knock yourself out,” snarked Jeff.

Reggie hit “Answer” on his cell phone. “Yeah?”

“Our mole’s been rooted out,” warned the voice on the other end. “He managed to send out an S.O.S. before being overwhelmed.”

“Just when things couldn’t get any worse,” sighed Reggie. “Well—let them have him. For now. I’m confident we’ll figure something out.”

“Understood,” said the voice.

As Reggie ended the call, the door opened, and several men in suits walked in.

“Hey, Reg,” said one of the men. “We just notified the boss. He’ll be here sometime tomorrow.”

“Great,” said Reggie.

“Until then, however,” said the man, grinning at Jeff like a shark. “Crazy Hand gave us the go-ahead to do whatever we please to Mr. Mole here.”

“Bring it on,” growled Jeff as the men closed in on him, rolling up their sleeves and cracking their knuckles. “I can take it.”

And he could. He really could.

**1.1.1**

It was late evening in the Smash Mansion. The last matches had been fought, and everyone ate dinner before retiring to their rooms and preparing for bed. Since the Mario Bros were back in the game, a sense of normalcy was slowly returning to the tournament. And perhaps a day would come when Project Nerf and patch 1.1.1 would be completely in the rearview mirror.

“Okay, you know what? This is getting ridiculous!”

Chad spoke those words as he stormed out of his bedroom and down the hall. He was tired of being at the mercy of these marshmallowy balls. Tonight, he was finally gonna do something about this mess.

With his long strides, Chad soon reached Luigi’s room and knocked on the door. “Hey, L. Got a minute?” he asked.

The door opened, and Luigi stepped out, still wearing his overalls and shirt. “Hey, Chad,” he said.

“First of all, I’m glad you’re back,” said Chad. “Second of all, I’m glad I caught you before you turned in for the night.”

“I probably won’t be able to sleep anyway,” Luigi replied. “What’s this about?”

“That—brings me to the third thing,” said Chad, clearing his throat. “Currently, I’m experiencing a little problem which requires—a certain—_skillset_—of yours.”

Luigi understood immediately. “How bad?” he asked.

“Well, they’re Boos,” shrugged Chad. “Pretty self-explanatory.”

“Give me a minute,” Luigi said quietly. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Thank you,” said Chad, heading back toward his own room and waiting at the door.

He didn’t have long to wait, as Luigi soon joined him, the Poltergust 5000 snugly but securely strapped on and ready to roll.

“Wow,” mused Chad, checking his watch. “That was 45 seconds.”

“You were timing me?” asked Luigi.

“Well, you said to give you a minute,” Chad said wryly, “but it actually took you less than that to get ready and…” He sighed. “Let me just—show you what’s going on.”

“Allow me,” said Luigi, opening the door and creeping inside, the vacuum nozzle hefted in his hands.

Chad walked behind him, watching the beam of Luigi’s flashlight skim his bedroom.

“As you can see, a lot of my furniture is missing,” he said. “My nightstand, my desk, half of my clothes—my toilet. Speaking of which, do you mind taking care of the bathroom first? I really have to, you know.”

“Okay,” said Luigi, and the two men proceeded to Chad’s bathroom.

Both the toilet and the bathtub were nowhere in sight when they entered.

“Hey, Chad,” said Luigi. “Watch this.”

He pressed a button on his flashlight, emitting a rainbow-colored beam. Slowly, the toilet’s outline came into focus, and then several white, spherical objects were expelled into the air.

“Are those Spirit Balls?” asked Chad.

“Yeah,” said Luigi, quickly vacuuming them up. “How did Boos find their way inside the Smash Mansion, anyhow?”

“Beats me,” replied Chad.

Luigi then trained his Dark-Light Device on the bathtub, drawing out the Spirit Balls and sucking them up.

Chad exhaled in relief. “Thanks, man,” he said. “You got this from here, right?”

Luigi bit his lip. “I got it.”

“Great. Carry on, then.”

“You’re being very helpful, Chad,” said Luigi as he exited the bathroom.

Chad shut the door, allowing him to relieve himself, wash his hands, brush his teeth and wash his face. Just as he finished, a Boo popped out of the medicine cabinet, cackling.

“Okay, ha-ha-ha. Very funny,” eyerolled Chad, opening the bathroom door and striding out.

“L?” he called out. “I found one.”

Luigi spun around. “Where?” he asked.

“Medicine cabinet.”

Chad moved aside, allowing Luigi to flash the Boo with his DLD, yank them by their tongue and then release them like a slingshot, bouncing them around and rendering them dazed long enough for him to capture them.

“There’s more, though,” warned Chad.

“I’m aware. Boos normally attack in groups,” said Luigi. “Chad, I’m gonna have to ask you to step outside, please. This could get ugly, and I don’t want you caught in the middle.”

“All right,” said Chad. “Show ’em who’s boss, L.”

Chad reached for the doorknob, only for it to suddenly vanish.

“Okay, that’s not good,” he muttered.

“You’re not going anywhere, Chad,” giggled a high-pitched voice. “We just wanna play with you.”

Luigi spoke calmly in a low voice as he readied his reliable vacuum. “Chad. Get behind me.”

Chad obliged, quickly plucking a bike light from his dresser drawer.

The Boos materialized, surrounding the two men and licking out their long tongues. Chad heard Luigi’s breath catch, but then the man in green steadily streamed it out. “I’m gonna get you out of this, okay?” he promised.

“I trust you,” Chad said, just as calmly.

“Thank you. That’s all I need to know.”

And then he leaped into action.

His DLD illuminated the bedroom in a rainbow hue. His vacuum whirred at full tilt. The Boos wound up disoriented and reeling in the air, fighting in vain against the powerful suction. But Chad didn’t just stand their helplessly. He used the bike light he’d grabbed, the bright, rapidly blinking light stopping Boos in their tracks and preventing them from sneak-attacking Luigi.

“C’mon, you two,” said a Boo. “Let’s have some fun!”

“Not tonight,” Chad retorted, grabbing a second bike light and shining both in the Boo’s face, allowing Luigi to pounce on them with the vacuum.

The remaining Boos whipped their tongues at the pair and tried to barrel into them, but Luigi and Chad used the room’s space to evade these attacks as best they could.

“A little music, maybe?” Luigi suggested after a while.

“You think it’ll work?” asked Chad.

“Not for them,” clarified Luigi, turning his vacuum on the next Boo that came his way. “For us.”

“Makes sense,” said Chad, hurrying over to his music player, switching it on and turning the volume to as loud as they could tolerate. A hauntingly appropriate electronic tune began pounding through the room as the duo continued facing off against the ghostly intruders.

** _Think of me, I’ll never break your heart._ **

** _Think of me, you’re always in the dark._ **

** _I am your light, your light, your light._ **

** _Think of me, you’re never in the dark…_ **

“He knows about the Smash Mansion,” Chad heard Luigi whisper. “He knows about the Smash Mansion. He’s gonna come after everyone. I can’t let that happen. I _won’t_ let that happen.”

“I don’t know if _he_ had anything to do with it,” said Chad, flashing multiple Boos with his bike lights so that Luigi could suck them into his vacuum. “Maybe it was just a coincidence.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” breathed Luigi. “That turtle just wants me and Mario out of the way so he can get Peach. _He_ wants to utterly destroy me.”

“He won’t,” Chad assured him. “I know you, L. You have a big heart, and you bounced back after getting nerfed. It’s gonna take more than a giant marshmallow to destroy you.”

Luigi spun on his heels and caught a Boo in the Dark Light as they lunged forward, while Chad held another in place with his bike lights.

“I’ve got an idea, L,” said Chad. “Try to knock that Boo into this one!”

Pulling hard on the Boo’s tongue, Luigi took aim and then released the suction, turning the two Boos into pool cue balls.

“Boo quarter puck,” quipped Chad.

Luigi then turned his DLD on the doorknob, purging the Spirit Balls from it and causing it to rematerialize. “Wait outside,” he said. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Luigi…”

“I wasn’t asking,” Luigi cut him off, opening the door and gently shoving Chad through.

Chad gasped as the door closed and then locked from the inside.

“Why are you protecting me, man?” asked Chad. “After what I did to you—why?”

There was no answer, save for the music and the sounds of battle.

Restlessly, Chad paced in front of his room as the minutes dragged by. The song on the music player transitioned into the next one—“Orinoco Flow”. Boos giggled and squealed. The Poltergust whirred. Luigi gasped in pain and/or surprise and breathed deeply. And the sounds bled together until Chad shut them out entirely.

He allowed the sounds to fade back in once the lock on the door disengaged and the door opened.

“Okay,” said Luigi. “You can come in now.”

“They’re gone?” asked Chad.

“Yeah. That’s the last of them.”

Chad entered his room, and his face split into a titanic grin. Everything was back in its proper place, the chill he’d felt replaced by a comforting warmth.

He turned back to Luigi and wrung him by the hand. “Thank you, L. Thank you!” he exclaimed.

“You’re welcome,” replied Luigi.

Then, Chad looked Luigi over. His eyes were dilated, his cap was jostled, his hair was in slight disarray and he was plastered all over with sweat. There were gashes on his body from the Boos’ attacks, and there were bite marks, too.

“Oh, wow,” breathed Chad. “We’d better patch you up.”

“Not until I take care of the Boos,” said Luigi. “I’ll call Professor Gadd and tell him what’s going on.”

Both men jumped at the sounds of muffled banging and yelling. It seemed to be coming from within the Poltergust.

“Hey! Let us out of here!”

Chad recognized that voice. “Steve?” he asked. “Wh—what are you doing in there?”

“Long story!” Steve’s voice replied. “Please, just let us out!”

“You’d better not try anything,” snapped Chad.

“Scout’s honor!” piped up Stevie’s voice.

Chad nodded to Luigi, who reversed the Poltergust’s suction and ejected the two Steves from the vacuum. They lay on the floor, looking dazed and disheveled, as Luigi held the nozzle on them.

“Don’t move,” he warned.

“Uh—we can explain,” Steve said, a little meekly.

Eden and Lauren ran over, joined by Timmy and Jimmy.

“What’s going on in here?” asked Eden.

“Yeah, is everyone okay?” added Lauren.

“Everyone’s fine,” said Chad. “The situation is under control.”

The two ladies frowned when they saw the two Steves crumpled on the floor.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be in your rooms!” barked Lauren.

“They—were—in their rooms,” Eden said, confused. “H—how can they be in multiple places at once?”

“And how did you end up in a ghost vacuum?” Chad wanted to know.

Luigi’s face brightened in realization. “A Boo Mushroom,” he said.

“Pardon?” asked Jimmy.

“These two must’ve gotten their hands on some Boo Mushrooms,” explained Luigi. “It’s a power-up that turns the user into a Boo. And…”

His Poltergust rumbled again, and he pointed the nozzle at the floor and expelled additional pairs of Steves. “They got their hands on Double Cherries, too!” he exclaimed.

“Double Cherries?” repeated Timmy. “From your adventure in the Sprixie Kingdom?”

“How did they get their hands on Boo Mushrooms and Double Cherries?” Jimmy wanted to know.

Luigi glared at the two Steves. “Both of you. Explain yourselves. _Now_.”

Steve and Stevie knew they were beat.

“We got them from Crazy Hand,” Stevie sullenly confessed.

“A gift from Mr. Sakurai,” added Steve.

“After we found out about the meeting, we knew we had to make you pay,” said Stevie.

“We just never expected you to get some help,” huffed Steve.

“What the Hell else was I supposed to do?” challenged Chad. “Sit there and take it? You could’ve seriously injured me! Look at Luigi—he’s _bleeding_!”

The two Steves shrugged indifferently. “Collateral damage,” they said in unison.

Chad and Luigi shook their heads, appalled by the lack of remorse.

“Come along, you two,” said Jimmy as he and Timmy hauled the two Steves off to Master Hand’s office.

Eden offered her hand to Luigi. “MH will probably want to talk to you about it, too,” she said.

“Dear God,” said Lauren as she sized up Luigi’s injuries. “They got you good.”

Luigi took Eden’s hand. “Part of the job,” he said as the two of them walked out, Lauren and Chad bringing up the rear.

**1.1.1**

Master Hand listened calmly as Luigi and Chad told him about what happened. Then, he glared at the two Steves.

“You just don’t know when enough is enough, do you?” he asked.

The two Steves were silent.

“Very well,” said Master Hand. “Jimmy and Timmy, I want their rooms searched top to bottom first thing tomorrow morning. In the meantime, escort these two to a different room and keep them there under guard. If they so much as cough or sneeze in a manner you find suspicious, I want to be the first to know.”

Jimmy and Timmy nodded before marching the two Steves away.

“Chad,” MH said in a quieter tone, “if you wish, I can arrange hotel accommodations for a few nights.”

“Why don’t you just cut out the middlemen and expel those two b—ds?” Luigi broke in.

“I’m still trying to figure out what to do with my brother and Sakurai,” explained MH. “Rest assured, we’ll keep you both safe.”

“Looks like I have no choice,” said Chad. “Go ahead and call the hotel, set things up.”

“I’ll do it,” said Lauren, walking over to the phone and dialing the hotel.

“Luigi—I can’t thank you enough,” said Chad.

“I’m glad you swallowed your pride and came to me,” said Luigi, “and before you ask why I wanted to protect you, it was because I _wanted_ to. You did and said a lot of awful things to me, but you clawed your way out of Project Nerf’s web before it was too late, you called that meeting so that you and others could confess, and you’re taking steps to right your wrongs. You know that I don’t hold grudges, and that I’m quick to forgive under the right circumstances.” Smiling, he clasped Chad’s hand. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Okay,” said Chad. “I’d better pack. Thanks again, Luigi.”

And then he turned and strode out.

“Luigi,” said MH. “Once again, you performed an act of courage and selflessness, and you were even willing to help a man who harmed you in the past. Truly, you never cease to surprise me.”

Luigi hummed. “So—did I break any rules?” he coolly asked.

“Not that I know of,” replied MH. “You acted instinctively, and you didn’t know that the attackers were Smashers using Boo Mushrooms and Double Cherries. You’re good, Luigi. No penalty is in order. However…”

Luigi drew in a breath.

“…you need to see Dr. Mario and get those wounds looked at. Earlier today, Koopa tried to sneak in, but it’s hard to be stealthy when you have heavy footfalls. Anyway, he was brought into my office, where I administered his punishment.” MH smiled. “He’ll be fighting you, Mario and Peach tomorrow, in three separate one-on-one battles. I figured you could use the catharsis.”

“You’re right about that,” said Luigi.

“Run along, now. You’ll need to be well-rested and at full health before facing that turtle.”

“Okeydokey. Night-night, Master Hand.”

“Good night, Luigi.”

The Hand of Creation watched as Eden helped Luigi out of his office. Then, he turned to help Lauren finish making Chad’s hotel reservation.

** **


	28. T Plus 27 Days

It was the lunch rush at Lake Chalet in Oakland, California. The restaurant staff was hard at work, serving up delicious seafood and seafood-based meals, refreshing drinks and luscious desserts to hungry patrons. There were widescreen LED TVs everywhere, each of them showing a different TV channel, most of them broadcasting a sporting event. Top 40 hits blared from the overhead loudspeakers. Lake Chalet was considered one of the best seafood restaurants in the Bay Area, and it wasn’t about to relinquish that distinction.

At around 12:55p.m., Theo walked inside the establishment. His jet-black hair was nicely trimmed and combed back, streaked with a little gray. A touch of cologne had been applied to the back of his neck, and a Tag Heur watch encircled one wrist. His attire consisted of a salmon, button-down shirt, a red-and-blue striped tie, navy blue slacks, dark blue socks with little white stars on them, sensible shoes and a navy suit jacket with Super Mushroom-shaped cufflinks.

Theo’s eyes scanned the place until he found the young man he was looking for, sipping on some ice water.

Mario looked up and rose to his feet when he saw Theo. “Hey!” he greeted.

“Hey,” Theo replied. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long.”

Mario grinned. “Not to worry—you didn’t.”

The two men shared a big hug before sitting at their table.

“Nice place, huh?” asked Theo.

“Absolutely,” nodded Mario.

A server walked up to them. “Hello, gentlemen,” he said cheerily. “What can I get started for you?”

“I’d like a strawberry smoothie, please,” said Theo.

“And I’ll have a peach smoothie,” said Mario. “Thank you.”

“Are you interested in any appetizers?” asked the server.

“We’ll have the crab cakes,” Theo told him.

“You got it,” said the server. “I’ll go put those orders in.”

“The service seems swift and courteous,” opined Mario once the server took his leave.

“Wait until you taste the food,” winked Theo.

“Guess what?” asked Mario.

“What?”

“I’m fighting that turtle later this afternoon,” smiled Mario, “and you and your family are cordially invited to cheer me on.”

“Aw—thanks, Mario,” said Theo. “Vanessa and I are getting the kids ready to go back to school; their month off is almost over. But we’ll be able to make it.”

“If I were you, then I’d arrive as early as possible,” said Mario. “The days when I fight Koopa usually have high turnout.”

“Understood.”

“My bro’s gonna fight him, too,” said Mario. “In fact, the match is scheduled to start in about an hour.”

“Well—when push comes to shove, you can always take your food to-go,” said Theo.

“I already talked to Luigi about it,” said Mario. “He wants me to enjoy my lunch with you, and he doesn’t want me scarfing down my food. And he knows that even if I’m unable to physically make it, I’ll be with him in spirit.”

“Aww…” cooed Theo.

“And after Luigi and I fight him, Peachy will get a turn!” laughed Mario. “Master Hand arranged it all.”

“I’d say that’s a cool and unusual punishment,” said Theo. “We’ll probably stay for Peach’s turn.”

“Actually, I was mistaken. Peach’s turn will come before mine,” said Mario, “but she’ll appreciate your presence.”

The server came back with their smoothies and crab cakes. “Have you decided on your main courses?” he asked.

“I’ll have the cold-water lobster tails,” said Theo, “and for my side dish, I’ll have a baked potato, all of the fixings.”

“As for me, the jumbo coconut shrimp sounds good,” said Mario, “and I’ll also take the baked potato as my side dish, with all of the toppings.”

The server wrote everything down. “I’ll have your meals out in a jiff,” he said, and then he was gone.

Theo raised his glass. “Cheers, Mario,” he said.

“Cheers,” replied Mario, and then they toasted.

Then, the two began munching on their crab cakes.

“_Dio_,” said Mario. “These are really good.”

“Told ya,” laughed Theo.

“How did you first hear about me and my bro?” asked Mario when he was done savoring the bite of food.

“My first vivid memory is sitting in my living room and playing the original _Super Mario Bros_ with my dad,” said Theo. “I thought it was the coolest game in the world. While I played as you, my dad played as Luigi, and the two of us were a team. Every day, I’d try to stay on my best behavior so I could fire up that NES and fight my way closer and closer to the Princess. When I finally defeated Koopa and saved the kingdom, I was over the moon. All of those hours seated in front of the TV had been worth it. Then, my parents would take me to the arcade sometimes, where we’d either play _Donkey Kong_ or _Mario Bros_. It was nice to see where you got your start. With each new game, I’d wonder how the two of you could keep doing that—fighting Koopa and rescuing Peach once or twice a week. Your tolerance was—and still is—godlike. My interest in you boosted when the Smash tournaments rolled around. And then I met and fell in love with Vanessa, and I discovered that she also enjoyed the _Mario_ franchise and was an avid Peach fan. The rest, as they say, is history.”

Theo ate another forkful of crab cake. “Seriously, though—what’s your secret? You never get tired of this?”

“Not really,” said Mario. “I’m kinda used to it now. Sometimes, I have new powerups helping me. And I know I don’t have to bear the entire burden of protecting Peach and her people—because I have my bro.”

“He never gets tired of this, either?”

“No. He’ll always help me save the day, no matter what.”

“But…” Theo trailed off. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by bringing _that_ up. “Never mind.”

“It’s okay, Theo,” Mario said softly. “When all is said and done, I get most of the hoopla, and Luigi barely gets anything. But he puts that behind him and moves on. And if he’s ever gotten fed up with it, he never lets me see.”

“After 30 years, one would think that Koopa would’ve gotten a clue,” opined Theo.

“But he didn’t,” eyerolled Mario. “Whatever plan he’s hatching, though—Luigi and I will be there, waiting to stop it in its tracks.”

“Plan—that’s—that’s actually what I wanna talk to you about,” said Theo. “Koopa’s not giving this up, Mario. He’s planning something big.”

“Like…?” Mario apprehensively asked.

Theo dropped his voice. “A royal wedding.”

Mario’s mouth dropped open.

“He’s taking this seriously, man,” Theo went on. “He’s even hired a quartet of wedding planners. There was a thick _folder_ he showed us. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill adventure through eight worlds. This is an _odyssey _we’re talking about here. He’ll lay waste to a dozen more kingdoms in order to put this wedding on. That’s why we were all in the castle two days ago. He wanted us to meet his wedding planners.”

“Are you going?” Mario breathily asked.

“I’m one of his groomsmen, and Vanessa’s the matron of honor,” said Theo. “Ganondorf is the best man. Look at it like this, Mario—we’ll be on the inside. We can send you tons of information. Maybe we’ll help Peach escape—like last time. Or maybe we’ll stall things long enough for you to get there.”

Mario muttered something under his breath, and then he composed himself. “Thanks for telling me,” he said. “I’ll pass it along as soon as I can.”

“That’s why Vanessa and I took action,” said Theo. “Part of the reason why, at least.”

“It was still pretty risky,” said Mario. “Next time you want to help Peach, could you please talk to me or to Luigi or to both of us first?”

“Will do,” said Theo. “Things like this make me wonder how you’re so full of energy and joy after all that’s been done.”

“The Toads look to me for hope and strength,” Mario told him, “and that turtle wants me to crack, to break, to cave. I won’t allow him that satisfaction.”

“That’s why Vanessa and I like you,” said Theo, “and that’s why Anna and Ethan like you. A lot of young people look up to you, and do you wanna know why? You’re an everyman, and yet you’re a hero who never says ‘can’t’ and claws his way through unimaginable trauma. This world needs more people like you, people who persevere, who have that skip in their step even as the rain pours down around them. And Vanessa and I think that you and Peach make an adorable couple.”

Mario blushed. “Thanks, Theo,” he said. “I love her so much. I’d die for her.”

The server arrived with their food, the divine smell of butter and spices and freshly prepared seafood filling their nostrils.

“Ahh…” Mario happily sighed as the server placed their plates before them. “No wonder this place gets rave reviews.”

“Enjoy,” the server said before taking his leave.

The two men set to work dressing their baked potatoes, and then Theo cut his lobster tails loose from their shells.

“What about my bro?” Mario suddenly asked.

“Hm?” Theo asked, a forkful of baked potato to his lips.

“What about Luigi?” asked Mario. “You, Vanessa and your kids look up to me, but what do you think about my lil’ bro?”

“Well, to put it mildly, Luigi’s kinda out of focus in most of your games. He’s had a limited role, and I guess we’re pretty biased because of it,” Theo explained.

Mario stared hard at Theo, popping a piece of coconut shrimp into his mouth. “That’s not the picture I got when Ethan went off on me after I lost to Luigi,” he said.

“Mario…” Theo said gently. “He’s apologized. Repeatedly. And he’s done his penance. Nothing like a few weeks without video games to humble a kid, eh?”

“I still can’t figure out why it was such a big deal,” Mario said, a little shakily.

“Neither can I,” said Theo. “Maybe it was because Ethan thought you were defeat-proof.”

“Or maybe it was because he didn’t see my bro as a winner?” challenged Mario.

“I guess—that was part of the reason, too,” conceded Theo.

“A lot of my fans think I’m indestructible,” said Mario, starting in on his baked potato. “They think I can never lose a fight—that I can never feel, never hurt, never bleed. But—I’m human, like everyone else. I have flaws, like everyone else. And I even wound up in a situation where I was in dire need of rescue, a situation which left me traumatized for so long…”

“Mario—don’t go there,” pleaded Theo. “Don’t put yourself through that.”

“The thing is—I can’t help it. To this day, I’m kicking myself for landing myself into that mess. And not only that, but also I put Luigi in danger and traumatized _him_. Did you know that we’re both seeing therapists because of what happened?”

Theo sat, listening in respectful silence.

“Like I said—I’m only human. I bleed, I fall.” Mario raised his head. “But I get back up again.”

“And so does Luigi,” Theo said quietly.

“Now say for the sake of argument I lose to that turtle later today,” said Mario. “How would you think my fans will react?”

“They’ll be bummed out for sure, since the bad guy wins,” mused Theo.

“Makes sense. But what if I lose to Peach? Or Rosalina? Or Donkey Kong? Or Yoshi? Or Link? Or Kirby? Or Fox? Or…”

Theo raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You got me,” he said. “The fact is, though, that Ethan did a horrible thing, and Vanessa and I encouraged him. But we’re trying to atone for it. We got Peach out of danger, for God’s sake.”

“And I appreciate that,” said Mario, munching on another piece of shrimp.

“Say, Mario,” Theo spoke up after a while. “Care to look at some pictures?”

“Sure,” replied Mario.

“I’ve been into cosplay since I was a boy,” said Theo, taking out his phone and opening the Photos app. “Vanessa’s a fan of it, too. And I guess we passed that down to our kids.”

He held out his phone to Mario, who scooted closer for a better look.

“This is me in my Mario costume,” smiled Theo as the men gazed at pictures of a young, dark-haired boy in Mario’s iconic getup, “and this is me in front of my NES, after I just beat the game. Oh, and here I am at the senior prom. All of the girls said I looked dashing in that white suit and top hat. That outfit would look good on you, Mario, but you didn’t hear that from me. And here’s me with Vanessa, before our first date. Here’s another one of us, and isn’t she a knockout in her Peach outfit?”

“She sure is,” said Mario.

“Here are some photos of us at the first Comic-Con we attended together. And these are some of our wedding and wedding reception photos.”

“Wow,” said Mario. “You two look so in love.”

“And we’re still going strong, even after Ethan and Anna entered the picture,” said Theo. “Not to be nosy or anything, but you and Peach—have you thought about, well, you know…?”

“_I_ have, once or twice,” said Mario, “but there never seems to be a good time to broach the subject. Peachy has royal duties, and I constantly have to fight off bad guys. And if push comes to shove, she knows that I’ll always put Luigi first. Which actually reminds me of a recurring dream I have.” He dropped his voice. “It’s during the climax of our usual rescue missions. Luigi and I are fighting that turtle, and we’re doing really well. But somehow—Koopa wrests the advantage from us and—attacks Luigi. And—and then he tries to make me _choose_. Between him and Peach. I see Luigi in so much pain, and I see his mouth moving, but I don’t hear any words come out. They’re drowned out by that beast’s laughter and Peach’s cries. And I’m standing there, trying to wrack my brain for a way to save them both and at the same time I’m trying to hear what my bro is trying to tell me. And then I wake up.”

“Knowing Luigi, I think he’s trying to make that choice for you,” said Theo, sipping his smoothie.

“Something similar happened during the rescue mission before this last one,” said Mario. “We had him on the ropes, and then he turned the tide and—started _hurting_ Luigi. Koopa tried to use my bro to get me to surrender! But Luigi, bless his heart, told me to just save Peach. He wanted me to _leave_ him to Koopa’s nonexistent mercy! That’s the thing about him—he puts other people before himself, even if it nearly gets him killed. Sometimes, I wish there was another member on our team, someone who could act as his conscience and make sure he takes care of himself, even as he’s trying to rescue people.”

Theo nodded in agreement, and after a beat, they looked over some more photos together.

“Despite that one incident, Ethan really wants to be like you,” said Theo. “He’s trying to be a better brother to Anna. And he even wrote a play about you, called ‘Forever Our Hero’, when he was ten.”

Theo opened a folder to show Mario some more pictures.

“Ethan played you, Anna played Peach, Vanessa played a Toad—she could do a convincing Toad voice—and I played the villainous Koopa.”

“I’d say he’s quite creative,” said Mario.

The two men continued eating their lunch, looking over Theo’s photos and talking. Just after the server swung by to take dessert orders, Mario’s cell phone chimed. The red-clad hero looked at the notification, and then he swore under his breath.

“What is it?” asked Theo.

“The railways between Oakland and the Smash Mansion have been temporarily shut down,” huffed Mario. “Apparently, one of the trains ran into some problems, and it’s stranded on one of the tracks.”

“You didn’t take a Warp Pipe?” asked Theo.

“All of the pipes are undergoing maintenance today, so I decided to take the train,” Mario explained. “But they’re saying that it’ll be at least two hours before train traffic resumes, which means I won’t make it back in time to watch Luigi battle that turtle! I’d better let him know…”

His thumb flew across the small keyboard as he sent Luigi a text message.

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” Theo said comfortingly.

“I know he will, but…”

The server returned with their desserts.

“Hey,” he said. “I know that Luigi’s scheduled to fight Koopa in less than 25 minutes. There’s a pub not far from here, and they always have their TVs on the Smash channel.”

“Thank God,” said Mario. “I won’t be able to make it in person.”

The server wrote the pub’s name and address on a napkin and handed it to him. “It’s within walking distance,” he said. “I’ll come back with your check, and you can close things out while you’re eating your dessert.”

“Okeydokey,” said Mario.

“I’m paying,” said Theo, “but thanks.”

True to his word, the server had their bill printed out in seconds, and Theo paid for the food and left a tip.

Mario and Theo ate their desserts in silence. When they were finished, Theo checked his watch.

“We’d better head over there,” he said, inputting the address the server provided into Google Maps and generating the directions.

After thanking the server and the rest of the staff, the two men exited the restaurant and strolled around the lake, toward the pub.

A hostess was waiting for them at the door. “Welcome in!” she said cheerily. “You’re just in time! The big fight is about 10 minutes away!”

“How did you know?” asked Theo.

“This is a popular viewing spot for Smash battles,” explained the hostess, “especially when it comes to those involving Luigi.”

She turned toward the pub’s occupants and cupped her hands around her mouth. “Attention, everyone!” she called. “We have a very special guest viewing the match this afternoon! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you—Super Mario!”

The patrons clapped as Theo and Mario followed the hostess inside the pub, where they were invited to seat themselves in the bar area. They made themselves comfortable at a small, round table near one of the TVs, where two Miis were in the middle of some pre-fight commentary. A server approached them, gave them some fresh, warm bread and butter for them to share and a glass of ice water each before taking their drink orders.

“This is surprising turnout for a Smash match involving my bro,” said Mario. “I wonder why—are they here to see him lose?”

“No,” said Theo as he scanned the pub. There were a lot of Luigi fans in this crowd. “I think the majority of these patrons are rooting for him.”

“It’s good to know that the number of Luigi’s detractors is shrinking as of late,” said Mario, “but they’re still present—and they can be merciless. They even managed to use Master Hand as a pawn. Can’t you believe that?”

“It strains credulity,” said Theo.

Their server arrived with their drinks. “Have you decided on appetizers?” she asked.

“Your loaded cheese fries look good,” said Mario.

“Excellent choice,” smiled the server. “Just so you’ll know, Luigi is this pub’s favorite Smasher. Which means—if he wins a Smash battle, then your meal is half-price.”

“Awesome,” beamed Theo.

The server left, and Mario smiled. “I’m glad Lake Chalet’s staff directed us here,” he said.

“One month ago, my family and I wouldn’t have dreamed of setting foot in this place,” murmured Theo. “What can I say? I guess we’ve had our eyes opened.”

“And I’m glad you did,” Mario said heartily.

Some time later, their server returned with their loaded cheese fries. “The match is about to start,” she said. “Shall I turn up the volume for you?”

“Yes, please,” said Mario.

“Better yet—let me move you guys to the bar,” said the server.

“Okeydokey,” smiled Mario.

“The two of you are in for a real treat,” the server told them. “You think watching Luigi’s matches in the Smash arena is something else? Wait until you watch one of them here. It’s a high-energy environment. But be warned—things could get a bit unruly.”

“We can take it,” Mario stated confidently.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of activity within the pub as the other patrons headed toward the bar, where two large, flatscreen TVs were mounted above. The bartenders were hard at work, serving up drinks to the prospective spectators. Servers bustled about, delivering food as swiftly as possible before the match heated up. Inside the kitchen, the chefs focused themselves as orders came fast and hard. The scene’s excitement was further illustrated as someone began to play a lively tune on an autoharp.

Mario and Theo hurried over to the bar, as well, with their server carrying their loaded cheese fries to the bar counter. The two men thanked her before each hopped onto a barstool and turned their attention to one of the mounted TVs. The Mii commentators finished their spiel, and after some fanfare, the scene switched to Luigi and Koopa facing each other on the Battlefield stage.

Around them, more patrons placed their bets, and several employees did so, as well.

“Six on the turtle!”

“Twenty on the plumber!”

“Eleven on Luigi!”

“Two on Luigi!”

“Ten on the turtle!”

“Twenty-five on Luigi!”

“I’ll raise you forty on Luigi!”

After placing their bets, everyone began crowding around Theo and Mario as the match went underway.

“C’mon, Luigi,” Mario said softly as the two combatants circled one another. “Give him a right thrashing for me.”

His heart leaped into his throat as his archnemesis slashed. Luigi dodged, landing a punch which sent the hulking reptile stumbling. The pub came alive with cheers. Recovering, Koopa swiped and slashed again and again, but Luigi danced and weaved, his punches seeming to come from all directions, targeting his opponent’s face and vulnerable underbelly.

“Watch his left, Highness,” someone said. “Watch his left!”

Red-orange flashed across the screen as Koopa unleashed his fire breath. Luigi backflipped to safety, but he hung back cautiously, waiting, fists up.

The patrons heard Koopa growl as he stomped toward Luigi, but that was just what the latter wanted. He fluidly dodged the succeeding strikes and knocked his foe further off-balance with body blows. And then he reached out—and grabbed.

“Do it, Bro!” Mario sang out.

As if Luigi could hear him through the TV screen, he Ground-Pounded his larger opponent and let loose with combos old and new. While his reliable down-throw to f-air was still viable at certain percentages, he seemed to be focusing on his newer combos, especially those involving special moves. He’d spin across the stage, mashing into the Koopa King with his Cyclone. Or, he’d top off one of his combos with a fiery Super Jump Punch. The man in green was starting off strong, and it appeared that he had a lot of aggression to let out.

Koopa jumped away from Luigi’s offensive assault, cannoning a hammy fist into him. Mario’s breath was driven from his lungs, as if _he’d_ been the one punched. But then he regained his wind when he saw Luigi getting back up. He wouldn’t know the extent of whatever injury he sustained until after the battle.

Mario took several more deep breaths, calming himself down.

“Hey, relax, Mario,” a patron said good-naturedly, clapping the portly plumber on the shoulder. “He’s faced down worse than that.”

“C’mon,” Theo broke in. “Now’s not the time or place to bring that up.”

“It’s fine,” said Mario. “Really, it’s fine. It’s—better than acting like it didn’t happen. He _did_ face down worse than Koopa. And he did it for me.”

Everyone fell silent then, Mario and Theo enjoying their loaded cheese fries as well as every delicious second of the fight unfolding before them in glorious HD. The volume was turned up nearly to the max, and as the bout heated up, the patrons could hear the sound of each connecting blow, each growl, each grunt and each cry of pain. Fight commentators narrated the action in increasingly excited tones, patrons and employees alike clinging to every word. As the server had warned, rowdiness started ensuing as spectators began downing shots, cheering animatedly for Luigi and booing, hissing and cursing whenever Koopa pulled a dirty trick or landed a blow on the man in green.

Theo stole a glance at Mario, drinking in the enthralled expression on his face, his eyes blue-black, his pupils dilating and a light film of sweat on his brow. He bounced lightly in his seat, intermittently leaping into the air. There was a tense, worried air about him, and his chest heaved. He was really into this fight, and Theo found himself drawn in, as well. Were Vanessa and the kids also watching, streaming the event on their phones as they sat on a park bench eating ice cream? Who else was watching from home? Daisy, perhaps, all the way in Sarasaland? A certain elderly professor, watching from his laboratory? Who _wouldn’t_ want to watch Luigi sock it to a normally intimidating opponent?

The fight grew more and more intense. Most of the pub’s occupants practically held their breath. Mario’s face was flushed, his attention riveted on Luigi’s every move. Theo’s heart was pounding right out of his chest. He saw Koopa snarl and bare his claws. He saw Luigi’s sweaty face briefly fill the screen, bearing a timid yet determined expression. He heard the commentators’ voices modulate. He heard Luigi breathing deeply.

“That’s right, L—stay with it!” someone cheered.

“Eyes on the prize, buddy! Eyes on the prize!” someone else chimed in.

“Don’t let that turtle get to you!” exclaimed a bartender.

“That’s right—you give him what for!” Mario and Theo’s server piped up. “He messed with your Bro, remember? Beat that S.O.B.!”

“That’s motivation enough, I’ll give you that,” said another bartender.

“And don’t even think about slacking off!” shouted one of the server’s colleagues. “There’s no way I’m clocking out empty-handed this evening!”

Mario continued to watch the action on the TV, a shaky hand now held over his heart and his breath coming fast. Occasionally, he’d take off his cap and fan himself with it. Whether he was watching Luigi from his favorite spot in the arena or viewing him long-distance, Mario would always fret for his bro’s safety, even after witnessing him hold his own. He just hated it when people hurt Luigi, either out of petty spite or for no reason at all. And some would try to use that little fact against him.

Concerned patrons did their best to comfort the little man, from offering him glasses of ice water to reassuringly squeezing his shoulder and to rubbing the small of his back. Some even offered up shots of alcohol. It helped, if only a little.

“I can’t drink any spirits right now,” said Mario. “I have a few matches left in my own lineup. Thanks, though.”

“This is a really big deal for you,” observed a patron.

“It’s always been a big deal,” said Mario. “I want him to know that I’m there with him, even if I’m not there in person at the moment. I want him to know that I believe in him. During our regular fights with him in his castle, he’s really taken charge lately. And while a lot of people are used to me landing the final blow on Koopa, they need to understand that Luigi’s capable of doing that, too.”

“Didn’t he grow giant to fight him?” asked another patron.

“He did,” smiled Mario. “We were adventuring in the Dream World, and it was as if the dreamy version of my bro was tailor-made to protect me. Behemoths would threaten us, but then he’d grow stories tall and make them wish they hadn’t tried to harm me. And if one of them _did_ land a blow on me…” He didn’t need to finish.

A few patrons whistled. “World’s Best Brother material right there,” one of them mused.

“D—n straight,” said Mario.

Back on the TV screen, Luigi whittled away at his opponent as he leaped, flipped and fluttered around him, attacking with relentless volleys of punches, open-palm strikes, elbow strikes and kicks. The fearsome Koopa had strength and bulk on his side, but Luigi made up for his lack of both with his enviable speed and higher jump height. While his attacks were seemingly light, they packed a lot of power, even drawing blood, to Mario’s great delight. However, whenever Koopa managed to land a punch, a kick or a claw slash, it would slow Luigi down considerably for a while, and he’d have to go on the defensive until he gathered himself. The princess-snatching reptile also attacked with his Ground Pound, his full-body tackles, his Fire Breath and by tucking into his shell and spinning toward his opponent. While Luigi could throw down with larger and stronger opponents, he still had to be careful—especially when there was no love lost between him and these larger and stronger foes.

As per usual, Mario cheered the most ardently for his bro, shouting encouragement in both English and Italian. His signature vitality rubbed off on the other patrons, who found themselves drawn to the man in red like a magnet. Their cheers became even more animated, and a few even adjusted their bet amounts as the match went on. And as Mario yelled and pumped his fist and leaped and bounced and exhorted, he felt as if his love and support was floating through that TV screen and straight into Luigi’s ears.

“Wow, Theo,” Mario said after a bit, his voice a tad raspy from cheering Luigi on. “Those guys at the restaurant were right to point us here. I _love_ the energy of this place!”

“So do I,” said Theo. “Maybe I should come here when I need some alone time.”

“Need a refill on those loaded cheese fries?” asked their server. “Or would you like to order an entrée?”

“We just had a big meal at the seafood restaurant next door,” Theo told her, “so we’ll take a refill on the loaded cheese fries.”

“Coming right up,” said the server.

“So,” said Theo, “I thought you’d like to know that Ethan has officially taken up Luigi as his new main.”

“Oh? And how’s he faring?”

“He’s—learning.”

“Is he maining my bro just to try and butter us up? Or does he actually want to main him?”

“I guess—a little bit of both,” shrugged Theo.

Mario said nothing, watching the unfolding battle on TV and popping a cheesy fry into his mouth.

“He made a mistake, Mario, and he’s owned up to it, which is the hardest part. He’ll have to live with it until his dying day. His mom and I will have to live with the fact that we encouraged him, rather than discipline him for his misbehavior.”

“Do you want to know what really sickens me?” asked Mario. “The fact that these people have no compunction over indoctrinating little kids into—whatever this is. It’s been the same throughout history. Hate isn’t in someone’s genetic code. Hate is taught.”

“Thank God we managed to pull Ethan back from the brink,” said Theo.

“He can main my bro, he can treat him nicer, he can cheer him on in his matches, and he can change and become a better person—but he still blew up at me over something so—trivial. Like—like I let him down. What’s the big deal? I lose to my bro sometimes. I’m upset, yeah, but I get over it. I’ve handled it well, save for that one time…” He trailed off.

“We needn’t bring that up,” Theo said softly.

“Thanks,” he said to the server, who arrived with some fresh loaded cheese fries. Returning to the conversation, he said, “Look, Mario—what’s done is done. Ethan can’t go back and unsay those words. Neither can I, and neither can his mother. The best we can do—is to let it be done and move on. Besides, the Bennigan Brothers are turning themselves around, cleaning up their acts. Surely, we shouldn’t count that out.”

“No,” said Mario. “We shouldn’t.”

The two men exchanged a smile, and then—

—Mario doubled over in pain, holding his midsection.

“Whoa,” said Theo as he steadied his companion. “Are you all right?”

A disquieting light flashed in Mario’s eyes. “I—I don’t know,” he said breathily. “Luigi—he—he’s…”

He was cut off by a fresh jolt of pain tearing through him.

“Oh—no…” he uttered.

The lively music from the autoharp abruptly cut off with a dissonant chord. Gasps and cries of disbelief and horror sounded throughout the pub.

“Holy [bleep]!” someone yelled. “Luigi!”

“That f—ing turtle!” someone else exclaimed.

Swears and catcalls soon followed as the patrons booed and denounced the Koopa King.

A few people had their hands pressed over their mouths. Sandwich halves or drumettes slipped out of customers’ hands as they stared, wide-eyed at the TV. The voices of the commentators had turned somber.

Mario was now practically glued to the TV screen, his gaze locked on the sight of his baby bro. He was on the floor of the Battlefield, bleeding and visibly in pain, struggling to stand as Koopa slowly lumbered toward him.

“C’mon, Luigi,” breathed a server. “Get up—get up…”

“J—s,” said a patron. “Is he okay?”

Mario reached out a gloved hand toward the screen. “Bro…” he uttered.

Theo took Mario’s other hand in his, another hand rubbing consoling circles into his back. “Hey,” he said. “He’s gonna make it. He doesn’t give up that easily.”

“No,” said Mario. “He doesn’t.”

“Oh, c’mon!” their server hollered.

More curses and blasphemes sprang up as they watched Koopa attack his opponent while he was down.

“Master Hand needs to stop this match—pronto!” cried a bartender.

“Mario—are you hurt?” asked Theo.

Mario shook his head. “Seconds before—that—I—I felt my bro’s pain. It’s—I can’t explain.”

“Will you be all right?”

“Yeah.” Mario took several deep breaths. “I think I’m fine now.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. “When I get back to the Smash Mansion, that turtle is in for a _lot_ of pain,” he growled.

A bartender passed him another glass of ice water, which he gratefully drank.

“There he goes!” someone shouted enthusiastically.

Raucous cheering followed as Luigi got back up, straightened and raised his fists, that same resolve in his eyes.

“Whoa! He took all of that and still managed to…?” A patron gawked. “Luigi, Luigi, Luigi—I salute you!”

Theo nudged Mario. “Told ya,” he said.

And then Luigi dashed back into battle, taking everything his opponent threw at him. Claw swipes and slashes, double-footed kicks, punches, body slams, body tackles, Ground Pounds and hits from that spiny shell. He gave with equal ferocity, maybe more, dealing a series of blows to Koopa’s legs, searing that underbelly with green fire, hammering away with Smash attacks. His tenacity floored everyone in the pub. One by one, they started chanting Luigi’s name, softly at first, and then louder and louder and louder.

“Only God knows what he’s thinking about right now,” mused a bartender who was fixing a drink.

“Me,” replied Mario. “He’s thinking about me. It’s always been me.”

He closed his eyes, allowing a wave of calm to wash over him. _Bro—I don’t care if I’m a thousand miles away from you. I’ll always have your back._

_ What you just said goes double for me, Bro._

Mario opened his eyes as Luigi’s face once again took up the screen. His jaw was set, and his eyes were intense. He kept fighting—and fighting and fighting and fighting, ensnaring that turtle in another blistering combo, not even dropping his rhythm when his green cap was knocked off the stage. Most of the women in the pub chattered among themselves at the sight of Luigi’s dark hair, and a lot of guys drank it in, too. They heard his breaths, sharp and a little drawn out, and they saw that he still had a lot of fire in him in spite of the blows he’d taken. No more words were spoken among them—there were only the sounds of cheering, munching on food and sipping on drinks, with Mario the most absorbed spectator of them all.

Brightness flashed as Luigi blasted off with a misfired Missile, colliding hard with the hulking reptile’s center of mass. The cheers tapered into a lull as the man in green grabbed his downed foe by the tail and repeatedly swung him round in a tight circle before letting him go. But Koopa managed to grab the ledge and flip himself up, his claws glinting. And—was that _blood_ smeared on those claws?

But it didn’t matter anymore. Koopa abandoned all caution and practically sprang for his opponent’s throat, only to be met with flurries of blistering punches and knifehand strikes. The TV cameras offered a quick view of Luigi’s chest pulsing in and out as he gave this match everything he had left. Everyone watched the bout’s final moments in total silence. Silence which was broken when Luigi laid the Koopa King out to dry with a Super Jump Punch.

“Got him!” Mario and Theo’s server exclaimed in triumph. “He got him!”

Cheers and whoops met this announcement. Mario slumped in his seat with a relieved sigh, beaming at Luigi’s image on the TV, shooting his signature finger-guns at the camera as he celebrated his hard-earned victory.

“Bang-bang!” they heard him say.

“Bang-bang!” the patrons uproariously replied, shooting finger-guns back at the TV.

Those who’d betted in Luigi’s favor collected their winnings as those betting in Koopa’s favor sat there, slack-jawed.

Theo and Mario saw their server high-five her colleagues as they divvied up a fat wad of cash.

“We’re rich!” she cried as she kissed her share of the winnings.

The pub calmed down during the post-fight commentary, and Mario breathed a little easier. He really hoped that Luigi wasn’t hurt too badly.

All of the servers came out, armed with plates of cake and bowls of ice-cream.

“On the house, in honor of Luigi’s victory,” they explained.

Mario accepted his dessert with a quiet smile, watching a Mii stride onto the scene and interview Luigi. His hair resembled a half blown-over hut, he was covered in sweat and bruises, and he was bleeding, as well. Despite this, a huge smile was on his face as he gave some breathless remarks. Then, Mario looked closer, and he saw that Luigi was cradling his midsection.

He could hardly wait for his turn against Koopa.

“I wanna say hi to my big bro, who watched and cheered me on, all the way in Oakland, California,” Luigi was saying. “I could feel him with me from beginning to end. _Ti amo_, Mario! _Ti amo sempre_!”

“_Ti amo sempre_,” Mario said softly, blowing a kiss to the TV.

“And also, I’d like to give a shout-out to Princess Daisy in Sarasaland,” Luigi went on. “My lovely, beautiful flower—I love you so much!”

The spectators cooed in adoration.

“I need to get my wounds looked at,” Luigi said to his interviewer. “My bro sees this, and he’ll go nuclear on that turtle—and my life will be over.”

“You got that right,” said Mario.

“The way you two look out for each other is the stuff of legend,” said Theo, shearing off a spoonful of ice cream. “It was a rocky road, but Ethan and Anna are on their way to that point.”

“I concur,” said Mario, “but Ethan needs to understand that while I can forgive him for exploding at me like that, I can never forget it.”

“He’ll understand when he gets older,” said Theo.

Upbeat and celebratory music resumed playing on the autoharp as the two men, joined by the rest of the patrons, enjoyed their complimentary dessert.

**1.1.1**

“And here—we—are,” said Dr. Mario as he finished tending to Luigi’s wounds.

“Thanks, Doc,” said Luigi.

“Try to relax over these next few days,” Dr. Mario went on. “Avoid anything stressful.”

_Easier said than done_, thought Luigi, but he nodded.

“I know you want to watch my counterpart later today, but try to take it easy, okay?”

“Okay.”

Someone knocked on the office door. “It’s Falco. May I come in?”

Dr. Mario crossed the room and opened the door. “Hey, Falco. You can see him,” he said. “Just keep it brief. I’d like him to rest.”

He walked out, leaving the two Smashers alone.

“Welcome home, Luigi,” Falco said amiably. “The battlefield just wasn’t the same without you.”

“Thank you, Falco,” said Luigi.

Falco held out a wing, and Luigi shook it.

“And thanks for cheering me on back there,” Luigi continued. “It meant a lot to me.”

“That was way too close,” said Falco. “That turtle was pulling dirty tricks out of his…”

“And yet I beat him,” Luigi broke in. “Not a lot of people think I can take him on one-on-one, so any time I’m matched against him, it’s a big deal.”

“Glad you proved them wrong,” smiled Falco.

“Now that everything’s settled down,” said Luigi. “I wanna ask—how did that meeting go?”

Falco’s smile dropped. “It was awful,” he sighed. “I mean, the food was good, and the other fan club members were affable at best. But then—there was my initiation ceremony.” He swallowed. “They asked me a couple of questions about King Boo, and of course, I lied to them. But then—they made me—renounce you.”

Luigi was silent.

“They made me renounce anything even remotely related to you. They made me renounce our friendship. And just in case you come across that video on the website, I want you to know—I didn’t mean it. Not a word. I still feel sick over having to say things like that.”

“I assume that in order to maintain your cover, you talked about your feelings about my old combos,” Luigi said a little tightly.

Falco nodded.

There was fire in Luigi’s eyes, and then it receded. “You did what you had to,” he said, the tightness gone from his voice, “and I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at that fan club for the way they manipulate people.”

“I don’t think the other members were manipulated,” shrugged Falco. “They genuinely hate you for—whatever reason.” He got back to the subject at hand. “After the initiation, the rest of the night was dedicated to toasting my arrival. A designated driver had to take us all home.”

But Luigi knew that Falco was leaving something out. “Falco,” he said. “I need to see it.”

The avian’s face paled. “You—you don’t want to…”

“Show it to me.”

Seeing the look on his face, Falco knew there was no sense in arguing. Slowly, he shrugged out of his flight jacket and pulled off his shirt, allowing Luigi to see.

And Luigi covered his mouth at the sight of his enemy’s face, forever seared into Falco’s feathers.

“It was so painful that I nearly blacked out,” said Falco. “That’s something I’ll never forget about that night. The fan club members, chanting as I was branded—and H.G.’s laughter. It was like—she was _enjoying_ my initiation. For the first few days afterward, I had to wear bandages over it, so my clothes wouldn’t chafe. The pain’s lessened recently, but—I’ll have to wake up to this every morning.”

“You’re gonna have that scar forever,” gasped Luigi.

“Which is why I didn’t want you to see it,” said Falco, reaching for his shirt.

But Luigi stopped him, glaring at the brand and jabbing at finger at it. “You will _never_ get your hooks into my friend,” he vowed. “Not as long as I’m alive.”

“F—friend?” asked Falco.

“You may have hurt me, but I’ll die before letting you fall victim to _him_,” said Luigi. “That little dust-up is in the past, anyway. It’s been over a month. And maybe it’s time for me to let it go, let it be done and move on.”

“Oh, Luigi…”

“I don’t care what happened between us last month. Friends and family fight sometimes, but they always make up in the end. No matter what you did or said, you don’t deserve to be tortured by that monster. And I won’t let him touch you.”

He opened his arms, and Falco moved into them.

“There’s no turning back now,” Luigi said softly as they hugged. “I hope you know that.”

“I do,” said Falco, “and I’m gonna ride it out till the end.”

“I know,” said Luigi, sinking deeper into the embrace. “I know you will, Falco.”

**1.1.1**

Later that afternoon, Theo met up with his wife and kids, so that they could cheer on Peach, and later Mario, together. As for Mario himself, the first thing he did upon his return from his lunch date with Theo was seek out Luigi and give him a gentle hug. And Luigi lifted his big bro into his arms and spun him around as Dr. Mario happily looked on. Mario’s eyes blazed upon seeing the extent of Luigi’s injuries, but Luigi assured him that he’d be released from the hospital before long. Still, Mario held his brother close and vowed that his reptilian archnemesis would get it during their bout.

First, however, he’d watch Koopa get his from the object of his desires.

The matchup between Peach and her frequent captor would also take place on the Battlefield—a simple, hazard-free stage allowing the Mushroom Princess to clobber the main source of her kingdom’s problems to her heart’s content. Forty-five minutes prior to the start of the match, the arena began filling up with Peach fans and superfans. Word had gotten out about her recent stay “in another castle”, and rumors were swelling that Koopa was about to step up his game after 30 years of sound defeats. Theo and his family sat in the front row, joined by the Mario Bros, Yoshi, Rosalina and Zelda.

“I suppose,” said Mario, “you wanna know what happened in World 5.”

“We do,” Vanessa said solemnly. “The whole affair really freaked us out.”

Mario exchanged a look with Luigi before turning back to Vanessa.

“Okeydokey,” he said. “You might wanna cover your kids’ ears for this.”

Theo and Vanessa took Mario up on his advice, and then he and Luigi told the couple everything. By the time they were finished, both husband and wife felt sick to their stomachs.

“I can’t believe you came out of that sane,” Vanessa said after a while.

“We really couldn’t afford to lose our sanity with the Princess in peril,” said Luigi.

“I say we never bring this up again,” said Theo.

“Agreed,” nodded Mario.

The parents uncovered the kids’ ears, their stomachs settling at the prospect of a “damsel in distress” beating Koopa’s tail to kingdom come. They even decided to head over to the concession stand to buy a Value Meal each.

Five minutes after the family returned with their food, the stage lights snapped on, and Peach emerged, clad in her normal pink gown. Most of the arena sent up a mighty cheer, to which Peach responded with a royal wave. Then, her eyes swept over to the family of four, and she winked.

“Give him heck, Princess!” yelled Theo.

Peach gave him an A-Okay sign before facing her opponent, the softness leaving her face.

The ensuing match was five delicious minutes of payback. While Koopa’s stronger attacks initially gave him a head start, he was soon at a disadvantage due to his opponent’s precise strategy. Vegetables bombarded him from all directions. Crisp frying pan strikes met his face. Golf club swings met his body. Her Peach Bomber crashed into him intermittently. Blows from her Parasol sent him off his feet. He saw that she wasn’t playing around. Well, neither was he.

Dorf and Wario cheered for their pal, of course, but they were grossly outnumbered by the masses of Peach’s fans, happily shouting down to her and booing Koopa. Even the conspirators of Project Nerf—while that dastardly reptile had done his part during the scheme, they knew that he’d put Peach through 30-plus years’ worth of grief.

When it came to close-quarters fighting, Peach leaned toward open-palm strikes, rather than punches. She wanted to smack the [bleep] out of Koopa, but she calmed herself down, knowing that the best was yet to come. While she was capable of wearing that turtle down, she chose to leave that to Mario. He always gave his nemesis the most blistering of beatdowns. A thin, cold smile was on her face as she sent Koopa out of the proverbial ball park with one strong swing of her Parasol. Then, she turned to face the audience with a soft laugh.

“Home run, Peach!” cheered Zelda. “Home run!”

“Oh—did I win?” Peach asked coyly.

“Yes, you did, _amore_,” said Mario. “Yes, you did.”

After the victory celebration and a brief Q&A, there were 90 minutes until Mario had a go at that turtle. Peach freshened up, grabbed something to eat and spent some time lounging around with her friends as Mario warmed up in the Training Area.

By 5p.m., the arena was a sea of red and blue, and Vanessa and her brood had also changed into their Mario getup. Everyone was hyped up and ready to watch Nintendo’s mascot kick some Koopa [bleep]. Sure enough, the man in red showed up in top form, blazing fury on his face and loaded for bear. From the word “Go”, Mario served up a double dose of painful payback—with interest.

Since it was the day’s last match, Mario gave no quarter. Koopa didn’t deserve any, not after what he’d put Peach and Luigi through! He launched into a display of his most iconic attacks, from his Cape to his Dunk to his juggling up-tilt, working his foe over until he ran out of breath, whereupon he’d cool things off with F.L.U.D.D. and throw fireballs, punches and kicks until most of his breath was back. And then it all began again and again and again, to the point where the sweat was flying off of him. The spectators who’d turned out to witness a heaping helping of karma being dished out to a despicable villain weren’t disappointed.

It got to the point that several Miis had to pull Mario off of his opponent once Master Hand had called the match. As he stood there, composing himself, he and the spectators drank in his handiwork. The Koopa King now had two very ugly black eyes, some missing teeth, a busted snout and a face and underbelly scored with bruises, burns and contusions. It was perfect.

Peach sat in the front row, nodding in approval.

“If he’s smart, then he won’t come near my kingdom for a long time,” she said.

“But—he will,” Luigi said in resignation.

**1.1.1**

Master Hand sat in his office, going through some paperwork, when he hear the knock on his door.

“Enter,” he said.

A phalanx of Royal Guards from Sarasaland strode in, escorting the mole from Daisy’s court. Said mole was liberally bruised up and had some dried blood smeared on his face, but there were no broken bones, and all of his major organs appeared to be intact.

“Here he is, Master Hand,” said the lead guard.

“Thank you,” said MH. “You may leave us.”

Nodding, the guards withdrew.

MH scrutinized the mole, taking in the mixture of relief and apprehension on his face.

“Please, sit,” he commanded.

The mole obliged.

“As you know, I’m Master Hand, the Hand of Creation and the master of ceremonies for the Smash tournament. And—what’s your name?”

“Bentley, sir,” replied the mole. “Bentley Ellis.”

“Nice to meet you, Bentley,” said MH, extending a pointer finger to him.

Tentatively, Bentley shook it.

“It appears you’ve had a rough go of it,” MH went on, “so today is your rest day. Tomorrow, you’ll wake up nice and refreshed, and you’ll brief me and a couple of friends of mine on the operation you partook in.”

“Okay,” Bentley said quietly.

“You’ll be shown to your room shortly,” said MH. “A shower and a change of clothes will be waiting for you, and later in the day, I’ll have someone bring you a dinner menu. However—there’s a price to my kindness, and that price is—the truth. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Bentley replied.

“Remember,” said MH as Eden, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy and Rory walked into the office, “the truth will set you free.”

“Understood,” Bentley solemnly intoned.

He got up and followed the quintet to where he’d be staying for the night.

**1.1.1**

It was now very late at night in the Smash Mansion. Bentley was in his guestroom, in a deep sleep, snoring loudly. All of the other Smashers were catching Z’s, as well.

Save for two.

Eden was awakened by the sounds of music coming faintly from the building. She frowned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Who on Earth could be up and blasting music at this time of night? The redheaded Mii decided to investigate.

She slid out of bed, smoothed out her nightie, fixed her sleep-disheveled ponytail and took out one of her flashlights, choosing not to bother with any shoes. Quietly, she opened her door, slipped out of her room and began walking down the hall, following the music as it steadily grew louder.

It was coming from the Training Area.

A few Smashers tended to use the Training Area late at night. It helped them calm any racing thoughts so they could sleep better. But Eden felt a small twinge in her stomach, something warning her that a heated situation was currently taking place, and that she needed to stop it before anyone got hurt.

Eden quickened her pace as she traversed the Smash Mansion’s corridors, her flashlight guiding her way. As she approached the Training Area, the sounds of grunts, battle yells, cries of pain and labored breathing became discernable. In an instant, she knew who was in the Training Room and what they were doing.

Passing another set of bedrooms, Eden paused when she heard one of the doors open. Peach emerged, also clad in a nightie, her hair wild all over her face. “Eden,” she uttered. “It’s them.”

“Not to worry, Peach,” said Eden. “Everything is under control.”

“Just let them be,” said Peach. “Okay? It’s been a trying couple of months for them, and there’s a lot they need to get out of their systems.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Eden told her. “Things sound pretty intense in there. Go back to sleep. I’ll take care of it.”

Peach nodded and returned to her room as Eden continued on her way.

Now, Eden could hear the sounds of blows connecting, though they were nearly drowned out by the pulsing music. The grunts, cries and deep breathing could be clearly heard now, and Eden knew without a doubt that it was them. And if she didn’t intervene soon, then this could escalate beyond just a friendly spar.

A sudden, rough **THUMP** galvanized Eden into action, and she raced the rest of the way toward the Training Area, her bare feet hardly making a sound on the floor.

The door was locked, but Eden overrode it with her access key, her heart pounding in her throat as she twisted the door handle and entered, wary of what she was about to see.

“Guys?” she called as she took in the room, dimly lit by a few blacklights. “Hey, guys?”

She eased her way past several rows of Sandbags, walking deeper into the Training Area. And then she saw them.

Mario, on the floor, a hand around his abdomen. Luigi, standing over him, his hands tight fists. Both of their chests were heaving, and both were shirtless and soaked in sweat. Eden couldn’t make out their facial expressions, and perhaps she didn’t really want to. She could feel the waves and waves of tension emanating from them, making it hard for her to breathe. She stood there, frozen, unsure of what would happen next. The Bros were hot and cross, and _something_ was going on between them.

Time slowed down as Eden watched the Bros, strong emotions swirling around the room and seeming to keep her rooted in place. Her mind spun. Her eyes flicked from one Mario Bro to the other, waiting for their next move. The music played on—a dark, electronic track.

And then the track came to an end, brief silence ensuing as the music player switched to the next track, silence filled by deep, almost angry breathing. Then, the next song broke the silence—a happy party track.

The pace of time returned to normal.

Both Bros let out a long breath, the tension exiting their bodies, soft laughter escaping them. Eden sensed the strong emotions extinguishing from the Training Area. Her power of motion returned, and she walked forward.

She saw Luigi help Mario to his feet and give him a big hug, the two of them whispering apologies to each other.

“Hey, you two,” said Eden.

Still in each other’s arms, the Bros turned to look at her.

“Hi, Eden,” said Luigi. “We didn’t wake anyone, did we?”

“Well—you kinda woke me,” said Eden, “and once I realized it was you sparring in here…”

“We’re really sorry, Eden,” said Mario. “It’s just—the two of us had a lot to sort out, and…”

“Say no more. This room is the perfect place for that sort of thing,” smiled Eden. “However, it’s getting very late, and you guys have another big day tomorrow. There’s someone Master Hand wants you to meet.”

“The mole?” the Bros asked in unison.

“The mole. MH has given him a chance to come clean and explain himself if he can. But if you don’t wanna lose control, then you need your rest.”

“I’m interested in whatever he has to tell me,” said Luigi. “How about you, Mario?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can convince him to switch to our side.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

The Bros exchanged a smile and held each other close before slowly separating.

“Okay, thanks for the heads-up, Eden,” said Luigi. “Night-night.”

“Good night,” said Eden.

“Sorry again,” said Mario.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Eden. “No harm, no foul.”

The redheaded Mii watched the Mario Bros retire to their rooms, hand-in-hand.

And then she, too, went back to bed.


	29. T plus 28 Days

Bentley Ellis sat in the office where his interview would be conducted, twiddling his thumbs. He was attired in a navy suit and tie, his reddish-brown hair elegantly slicked back. Most, if not all, of the bruises had faded from his face, and he looked less worn out. If Master Hand was willing to listen to what he had to say, then surely, his life wasn’t completely over, right? But don’t call him Shirley.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door swung open, and a man in red walked in, followed by a man in green. Bentley stiffened. He knew of these men—they were the famous Super Mario Brothers. And the man in green—Luis? Langley? Landon?—was romantically involved with Princess Daisy. He could only pray that the green-clad one would hear him out.

“Morning, Bentley,” the one the mole knew as Mario greeted, holding up a bag full of restaurant takeout. “I brought us some breakfast.”

“Thank you, Mario,” said Bentley.

Mario took out one of the takeout boxes, opened it, and set it before Bentley, following up with plastic cutlery. Bentley inhaled the smell of the omelet and hash browns before digging in.

The Bros sat across from Bentley, getting themselves situated with their own food.

“Wait a minute,” said Bentley, his mouth full of food. “Where’s Master Hand?”

“He’ll be with us soon,” said Mario. “In the meantime, I hope the three of us can get acquainted with one another.”

“Hm,” said Bentley. “There’s so much to tell.”

“Yeah. There is,” smiled Mario. “These past few weeks have been unkind to you, haven’t they?”

“A little bit,” said Bentley.

“Constantly looking over your shoulder, hoping that someone doesn’t find you out, worrying over what would be done to you if your cover is blown,” Mario went on. “It takes steely nerves and a lot of b—ls to be a mole.”

“You got that right,” said Bentley.

“Could you—could you tell us how you came to be a mole in Princess Daisy’s court?” asked Mario.

Bentley glanced at the man in green, who hadn’t spoken throughout this conversation. He was methodically chewing his food, his eyes fixed on his takeout box. It was as if Bentley wasn’t there at all.

“It was—shortly after the update patch was released,” Bentley began. “Before then, I was helping Mr. Sakurai with his work. Normal day, normal life. Then, Crazy Hand approached me with the job. He told me he had his suspicions about one of the Project Nerf conspirators—Chaz or something like that.”

“Chad,” Mario corrected. “Chad Wrainwright.”

“Crazy Hand told me that Mr. Wrainwright had bailed on the project after only a few days,” Bentley continued, “but even so, CH had proof that he’d been attached to that scheme, and he used that proof to ensnare him in another project involving the Smash Ballot—Operation Ballot Box. Mr. S had planned to be in on it, as well. They were taking a break as a ‘reward’, but they’d planned to get things rolling sometime next month.”

“Mr. S was willing to turn a blind eye to ballot tampering,” said Mario. “Why?”

“I’d say—out of spite. Mr. S harbors resentment against your brother due to the losses he suffered from that 30th anniversary celebration,” Bentley explained. “He wants revenge, so to speak. So, he took part in the plot to have your brother’s down throw nerfed, and he plans to make sure that Daisy never makes it into Smash by having us inflate the vote counts for more popular Smash Ballot candidates.”

“Was that why he had you become a mole in Princess Daisy’s court?” asked Mario. “To sabotage her campaigns to get into the tournament from the inside?”

Bentley heaved a sigh. “That was—part of the reason why,” he said. “The other reason why was because he had his suspicions regarding Mr. Wrainwright, that he would somehow—break out from under his thumb. The fellow had already made it clear that he’d rebel against Crazy Hand the first chance he got. Then, one night, he called me and told me that he overheard Mr. Wrainwright whispering to your brother that he’d meet the two of you in a secret location and tell you everything.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the green-clad brother stiffen.

“He knew that Sarasaland would be Mr. Wrainwright’s first choice for a venue, and he told me to keep my eyes peeled for information on this meeting. To accomplish this, I gained enough of Daisy’s trust to be made one of her bodyguards, so that I wouldn’t leave her side for a moment. And the rest—as they say—is history. I listened in on Mr. Wrainwright and his companion hammering out the details with Daisy and found out the venue’s exact location. Unfortunately, I was unable to pass this information to Crazy Hand in time because not only was security tight that day, but also I was beginning to arouse suspicion. By the time Crazy Hand gained wind, Mr. Wrainwright’s meeting had been a smashing success. Project Nerf was out in the open.

“And a few days ago, somehow, what I’d dreaded came to pass. My identity as the mole was discovered, and Princess Daisy wasn’t too happy about that. I was detained until Daisy showed mercy and had me taken here.”

“But—aren’t you relieved that it’s over?” asked Mario.

Bentley frowned. “Guess so.”

“What do you mean, ‘guess so’? Last night, you slept like a baby. I could hear you snoring all the way from my room. You knew that the game was done. You didn’t have to run anymore. You didn’t have to look over your shoulder, jump at the slightest sound or sleep with one eye open anymore. Now that you were outed as the mole, you could relax and rest easy. Plus, Master Hand has given you no reason to fear him, and he’s offered you food, a roof over your head, baths and clean clothes in exchange for information. Information which, so far, you’ve willingly provided.”

Bentley thought this over. “Yeah. I’m guess I’m happy that this masquerade has come to an end. But—what happens after? Crazy Hand and Mr. S—they’ll eventually figure out that I warbled to you.”

“Protecting people is our strongest suit,” said Mario. “We’ve been doing that for 30 years now. Don’t worry—we’ll keep you safe.”

“After plotting against your brother and one of your allies—you’re willing to risk your life for me?” asked Bentley.

“Absolutely,” nodded Mario. “We’re prepared to forgive, and we’re prepared to forget—for the most part. But you have to work with us here, okay?”

“Okay,” said Bentley. “I’ll try.”

At this, the green-clad brother spoke up.

“Don’t try,” he said. “Do.”

Master Hand then floated inside, bearing two boxes of donuts.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, setting the donuts in the middle of the table. “The breakfast rush started sooner than I thought.”

“Don’t apologize,” Mario said affably. “Bentley was just telling us about his extraordinary adventures as a mole.”

“It’s true,” added Bentley.

“Bentley,” said Mario, “would you please be so kind as to tell Master Hand what you just told me and Luigi?”

_Luigi. Right—Luigi. THAT’S his name._

Taking a deep breath, Bentley obliged.

MH was silent for a few moments afterward. Then, he spoke up.

“And all of this is the truth?” he asked.

“Every word, Master Hand.”

“If you’re willing to relinquish additional evidence of Mr. Sakurai’s involvement in Project Nerf, as well as my brother’s complicity, then I’m willing to absolve you of all wrongdoing. And I’m sure the Mario Bros can absolve you as well and accept your help. Right, Mario?”

“Right,” replied Mario.

“Right, Luigi?”

Luigi said nothing, still working on his food.

“Luigi?”

Luigi glanced up, as if MH had just gotten his attention. “Oh—yes, of course,” he said, a little distractedly.

“I’m also willing to invite you to work for me,” MH went on. “I honestly care about the health and safety of my employees, unlike _some_ people.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Bentley.

“I’m referring to Mr. S,” said MH. “I decided to call him and let him know that you were in my custody. His right-hand man, Reggie, picked up the phone. And do you know what he said to me?”

“What?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘That incompetent twerp failed us. Keep him. Do with him as you will.’ Yeah—he _really_ gives a rat’s [bleep] about you, Bentley.”

Bentley huffed. “Figures,” he muttered. “All right—whatever you want, I’ll get it for you.”

“And as long as you do that, you’ll have a well-paying job and lots of friends,” said MH. “Do we have a deal?”

Bentley gave a [bleep]-eating grin. “You bet your middle finger!” he laughed. “And a sweet one at that!”

MH held out a pointer finger, and Bentley shook it. Then, he shook hands with Mario and Luigi.

“First things first,” said Bentley, pulling out a tape recorder, “you might want to hear this.”

He set the device on the table and pressed “play”. After a few seconds, the quartet heard Mr. Sakurai’s voice, speaking to somebody.

“_Hmm—that’s an odd coincidence_,” he was saying.

“_How come_?” That was Falco’s voice.

“_Because that little green rat cost me a lot of money, and I’ve waited for a chance to settle the score since_.”

“_I never mentioned a name, Mr. Sakurai_.”

“_You didn’t have to—I just know_.”

“_So—you also have a beef with Luigi_?”

“_Indeed. I’m gonna make him the most miserable plumber who ever lived, and I’ll tell you why. Luigi nearly ran this company into the ground with his 30th anniversary b.s.! It was all Luigi this and Luigi that for a full year, and we performed poorly in the sales department! For 32 years before then, we were giving consumers what they wanted—the chivalrous, faultless hero who always jumped at the challenge! And let me be even more frank, just to show you that I’m not a hard-hearted man, that it’s not all dollars and cents! Mario is iconic! He’s young, he’s strong, he’s handsome—to a degree! He’s the ideal everyman! Back in the 90s, if you asked a kid who they wanted to be, they’d always say, ‘I wanna be like Mario!’ He’s someone who’d spring back up after being knocked down! He’s so adored that even the guys want him! And then Luigi comes along with his little sobstory over nobody knowing his name or crediting him with helping his big bro, and Nintendo kowtows to him and ropes me into it! The Year of Luigi was a giant, costly spectacle! That piece of green [bleep] made me look ridiculous! And a man in my position can’t afford to be made to look ridiculous!_”

“_That’s deep._”

Bentley turned off the tape recorder. “I mean, yikes,” he said.

The Bros said nothing.

MH spoke, his voice quietly angry. “I want Mr. Sakurai in my office yesterday,” he said. “He lied to me, manipulated me and demonstrated conduct unbecoming of a businessman.”

“What if I called him, begged for his forgiveness and convinced him to take me back?” offered Bentley. “Then, I can be _your_ mole.”

“So—after getting out, you want back in?” asked Mario.

“What? It has its moments,” defended Bentley.

“While it’s a good idea, I’ll try to think of something else,” said MH. “I don’t want you endangering yourself again.”

Bentley exhaled. “All right, then,” he said. “I trust you.”

“Crazy Hand is currently detained in his own office,” said MH.

“And two of his helpers, named Steve and Stevie, are confined to their rooms,” added Mario. “Those two are the biggest threat. Would you like to know what they did to my brother two nights ago?”

“What did they do?”

Mario told Bentley about the trick the two Steves had pulled with the Double Cherries and Boo Mushrooms, and how Luigi had defended Chad from them.

“Oh, my God,” breathed Bentley. “Crazy Hand is both clever and devious. You should worry more about Mr. Wrainwright than about me. He won’t be safe as long as those three are roaming around.”

“He’s staying at an undisclosed location,” said MH, “but your continued cooperation will ensure his safety.”

Bentley nodded. “I won’t let you down,” he vowed.

He plucked a donut from one of the boxes and took a bite. “Now,” he said, “what else would you like to know?”

**1.1.1**

Later that morning, the few few matches of the day were over and done, and they’d been intense—especially Luigi’s. The man in green was grateful, though—it had allowed him to sweat out the excitement and anger stirred up by Bentley’s presence. The man had betrayed his Flower Princess’s confidence and had endangered countless others when he chose to infiltrate Chad’s meeting. Luigi hoped that Bentley was thanking God that the news of the meeting had been delayed in reaching Mr. Sakurai and Crazy Hand, or else otherwise…

But then again, it had been Luigi’s idea to have Daisy bring Bentley here, and he’d successfully talked his beloved out of seriously injuring the guy. And if he was genuinely willing to help, then he could let bygones be bygones. Besides, he had far more _pressing_ matters to worry about—

Speaking of which, Falco had showered and changed clothes, and he was now killing time in his room, sipping on an energy smoothie as he surfed the Net. He was about to check on the fan club website when he heard the video call notification chime.

It was Professor Gadd.

Instantly, Falco hit “Accept”.

“Prof!” he greeted. “Talk to me.”

“Hey, Falco,” Gadd sang out. “How’ve you been?”

“Better. That brand hurts less, the Princess is safe and the Mario Bros are back in the Smash Mansion. Normalcy is making its way back,” smiled Falco. “How about you? How have your endeavors progressed?”

“That’s exactly the reason why I called,” said Gadd. “I have something to show you, but it’ll be better if you experienced it in person. Run along and talk to Master Hand about canceling the rest of your morning matches, and then head right back.”

“Uh—okay,” said Falco, confused.

“Leave the call active,” said Gadd.

“All right,” said Falco, before heading toward MH’s office.

He reached his destination in record time and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” commanded MH.

Falco sidled in, greeting the Hand of Creation.

“What’s up, Falco?” asked MH.

“I’m gonna be out for most of the morning,” explained Falco. “A friend wants to show me something.”

“The Professor?” asked MH.

“How did you know?”

“While you were engaged in your matches, he gave me a call,” MH explained. “As you know, I take any threat to a Smasher’s safety extremely seriously. So, when the Professor told me that Luigi needed a more flexible schedule so he could regularly commute between here and Evershade Valley, I was more than happy to accommodate him to the best of my ability. I’ve also heard that you two are becoming friends.”

“That’s true,” said Falco. “We both wanna look out for Luigi when it comes to—_him_.”

“I don’t know all of the details, but I know that _he_ is more despicable a villain than Dorf or Koopa,” said MH. “I’ll reschedule the rest of your morning matches, but try to be back by at least 2p.m., okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Master Hand.”

“Have fun,” said MH.

Falco gave MH a nod and hurried back to his room.

“All right, Prof,” said Falco. “We’re all set.”

“Do you have another laptop?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Bring it along.”

Falco obliged, tucking his second laptop and its accessories into a protective sleeve and turning back to Gadd.

“And here—we—go,” said Gadd, pressing a few buttons.

A disassembling sensation overtook Falco, and he seemed to lift off the ground and fly straight into his computer screen.

**1.1.1**

Falco’s world was upside down as the mass of pixels composing him reassembled and deposited him into Gadd’s lab in the Gloomy Manor. The elderly professor caught and steadied the avian as he landed.

“Not bad for a first timer!” Gadd said happily once Falco’s world righted itself.

“Well, personally, I prefer the air,” said Falco. “Okay, Prof—what’s this about?”

Gadd led Falco to a mysterious object covered by a white sheet. “Ghost wrangling is about to be revolutionized in ways you’ve never seen before!” he enthused. “Falco—prepare to be amazed!”

With a flourish, he whipped away the sheet, revealing—

—a Plexiglass tank surrounded by padding, to which two adjustable leather straps were attached.

“Okay…” said Falco. “What am I looking at?”

“The beginnings of my new Poltergust!” Gadd enthusiastically responded. “The protective padding you’re looking at is encasing the vacuum’s exoskeleton. I’ve decided to design the rest of the vacuum around the Plexiglass tank. And thanks to the ghosts here, such a tank wasn’t that hard to procure.”

Gadd indicated the Greenies and Slammers occupying the lab, working on something or other.

“Before I got this idea, I was at work perfecting the Strobulb’s design,” Gadd went on. “It started off as a small, green bulb that had to be screwed onto the back of the 5000’s apparatus. But now, it looks like any old lightbulb. I wrapped some coolant around the bulb’s base, so that it won’t heat up the flashlight. And the flashlight itself has additional cooling protection.”

A Slammer floated over to them, triumphantly presenting the “wand” component of the new Poltergust.

“Thanks,” said Gadd.

He walked over and attached the wand to the long nozzle snaking from the under-construction apparatus.

“Most of the basic accessories are complete,” said Gadd. “The suction, flashlight and Strobulb are fully operational. I’m currently working on a new Dark-Light Device, and the jet of air and to-be-determined projectile function will follow at a later time.” He pointed to the handle attached to the wand. “This controls the vacuum, and as you know, this red button activates the Strobulb. The trigger near the back of the wand will fire off the projectiles, and the entire wand is coated with sweat-absorbing, slip-proof material.” He picked up the vacuum. “Would you—like to try it on?”

“Why, yes,” said Falco. “I’d love to try it on.”

“That’s what the protective padding is for,” said Gadd as he held out the unfinished vacuum like a coat, allowing Falco to slip his shoulders through the straps. “I don’t want the exoskeleton chafing or causing discomfort.”

Falco adjusted the shoulder straps and grabbed the wand with both wings, waiting for instructions.

“I’m so glad that Luigi told me about his ambidexterity,” said Gadd. “It made designing the wand easier. And as I recall, he taught you a few basics on holding and handling the Poltergust?”

“We used the 5000 model,” said Falco, “but yeah. One hand should be near the Strobulb at all times, and the other hand should be near the vacuum’s trigger. Which in this case is the handle.”

“That’s right,” said Gadd.

Falco wrapped one wing around the wand and seized the handle with the other.

“Okay—now pull on the handle. Gently.”

Falco obliged, feeling a rumbling sensation through his body as the vacuum activated.

“Nice, strong suction,” he observed.

He released the handle when directed to do so.

“Slamming ghosts,” said Falco. “You told me that you wanted him to be able to slam ghosts.”

“If he allows the vacuum to build up enough power,” said Gadd.

“How’s that working out for you?” asked Falco.

Gadd pursed his lips. “During some of their adventures, the Mario Bros utilize hammers to fight their enemies,” he said.

“They do,” said Falco. “So—you want the ghost-slamming to be choreographed like a hammer swing?”

“Something like that,” responded Gadd.

“Okay, here we go. So—imagine, if you will, that I’m vacuuming a ghost, and I’ve built up the required amount of power.” Falco pantomimed vacuuming a ghost and bracing back against any resistance. “Now, I’m able to slam the ghost. My question to you is—how do you want the slam to be telegraphed? Like swinging a baseball bat?”

Falco brought the wand to his shoulder and swung it in a horizontal arc, as if he was trying to hit a baseball. “Home run!” he sang out. He swung the wand several more times. “I—I think this can work. Luigi can slam the ghost into any nearby walls, knocking aside any other ghost in his path.”

Gently, Gadd stopped him. “Careful with that,” he warned, indicated the beaker filled with blue-white liquid. “Don’t knock over the ghost energy.”

“Sorry,” said Falco.

“That’s quite all right,” said Gadd, “and while you’re on the right track, you’re on the wrong train. The Bros’ hammer swings can be vertical as well as horizontal, as you recall.”

Falco nodded.

“I was thinking more along the lines of—chopping wood.”

“Chopping wood?” repeated Falco.

“Slamming a ghost to the floor would be easier than slamming them against a wall,” said Gadd.

“Chopping wood, eh?” mused Falco, straightening his shoulders and widening his stance. “So, maybe—like this?” He lifted the wand over his head before bringing it earthward in a swift, chopping motion several times.

Gadd nodded. “Close,” he said, “but try to swing more from your body, rather than your arms.”

Falco nodded and swung the wand downward again, this time lunging his entire body into it. He repeated this as Gadd looked on.

“A little more from your body,” he said.

“Okay,” said Falco.

“And also try a wider arc?”

Falco heeded the advice, Gadd fishing out his cell phone and recording the avian’s actions.

“Okay, that’s good,” Gadd said after a while.

Falco caught his breath and shook out his shoulders.

“If Luigi swings from his body, then his arms won’t tire out as quickly,” explained Gadd, “and if he times his slams, then he could yield more slams before the ghost breaks free. I’m shooting for at least five to seven slams per capture attempt.”

“Fifty-seven slams?”

“No, no, no. Five _to_ seven slams. 57 slams is wishful thinking.”

“I like it, Prof,” said Falco, sliding off the unfinished vacuum and handing it back to Gadd. “Keep at it.”

“You bet I will.”

“And while the suction seems powerful enough, I think it can be upgraded further,” said Falco. “What if a very strong ghost attacks him? What if barriers block his path? Those two situations would necessitate some kind of—_super_ vacuum.”

“Super vacuum,” murmured Gadd. “As in—super _suction_…” His eyes lit up behind his glasses. “Falco—you just gave me an idea, and I’d better write it down!”

A Greenie handed the professor a pad and paper, and the latter scribbled “SUPER SUCTION” onto the paper in black ink.

“I’ll just save that for later,” said Gadd, tucking the paper into a drawer. “One project at a time, right?”

“Right,” said Falco.

The avian made himself comfortable in the lab, plugging in and booting up his laptop and logging onto the fan club website. Occasionally, he passed tools and parts to Gadd as the elderly professor and the ghosts continued laboring away at the new Poltergust.

“Let me guess,” said Falco as he fooled around on the site, poking around on chat forums and browsing the media library. “You’re naming this one the Poltergust 6000?”

“I haven’t thought of a name for this beauty,” said Gadd. “I’ll name her when assembly is almost finished.”

“Oh, okay,” said Falco.

He turned back to his computer as H.G. posted an announcement on the fan-site’s main page. Someone had just uploaded a video to the media library.

Curious, Falco returned to the media library and quickly found the video.

“What in the name of…?” he murmured when he saw the user who’d uploaded the video.

Gadd paused in his work. “Falco—is everything all right?”

“There’s a new video on the fan club website,” said Falco, “and you won’t guess who uploaded it.”

“Who?”

“This KBoo2U individual—the one who posted the video of the Bros in that Toad House,” said Falco.

Gadd set down his tools and scooted his chair next to Falco. “All righty,” he said. “Let’s take a look, shall we?”

Falco inhaled deeply before clicking on the video, maximizing the screen and clicking “play”.

Like the previous video, this video also had a timestamp on it, and it appeared to have been taken from a surveillance camera. It showed a familiar, spacious room, with a fountain of sorts in the middle and a music player to the screen’s far right. Falco’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the date on the timestamp: **10/15/2015**.

_Luigi had been in Evershade Valley on that date._

Next to him, Gadd clutched the armrests of his chair. “That—that…” he whispered. “That’s the Gloomy Manor’s foyer.”

As they continued to watch, Luigi walked into the room, wearing a pair of light gray workout pants and a plum-colored, short-sleeved shirt. He looked tense and stressed—his body language that of a man tightly wound. The green-capped man headed over to the music player and plugged the AUX cord into his phone. Gadd and Falco saw him fiddle around with the phone as he selected one of his playlists. Then, he walked into the center of the room, peeling off his shirt and tossing it aside as he went.

Just as he kicked off his shoes, the music started playing, and his body started moving. He danced, his body pulsing and swishing back and forth as he let the tension and turmoil loose. As the dancing grew more frenetic, the video switched between different camera angles, making sure to show as much of Luigi as possible. Body swiveling, hips winding, shoulders rolling, muscles twitching and flexing with his movements as he rocked, spun, swayed and whirled.

“All the time he was there,” gasped Gadd. “This person was watching him.”

He could barely breathe as the video cut to a shot of Luigi’s face, the expression ecstatic, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. And then the camera slowly panned down his body, as if inviting the viewer to savor it—to enjoy it…

“Who is doing this?” asked Falco. “Who the Hell is KBoo2U, and how are they getting these videos?”

Gadd was drawn and pale. “I’ve seen enough of this,” he said a little sharply, scooting back to his original spot.

But Falco was still entranced by the video, capturing every second of Luigi dancing and huffing and sweating, the cameras continuing to pan up, down and across his body, at several points lingering on his backside and his—

“This is sick!” Falco exclaimed, finally snapping out of it. “This website and this fan club is encouraging a twisted obsession with Luigi, and I need to put a stop to it!”

“Amen,” said Gadd, going back to whatever he was working on.

Falco minimized the video and dragged it to the corner of his screen while giving little shout-outs and hollers to whoever was online at the moment.

“I don’t know if these guys hated Luigi before they joined this club, or if H.G.’s rhetoric slowly brainwashed them into doing so,” Falco went on, “but either way—this fan club is bad news.”

His eye fell on the minimized video just as text appeared on the screen in violet letters.

**_Enjoy your peace of mind while you can, Luigi…_**

Falco hit “pause” and gawked at the image. “Holy [bleep],” he said breathily.

“Hm?” asked Gadd, craning his neck to gaze at the computer screen.

Falco rotated his laptop so that Gadd could have a better look.

“Oh—holy mother of Mary,” said Gadd.

“Prof,” Falco said shakily, “do you think…?”

“I can’t bear to say what I think,” Gadd broke in.

The live chat became active.

**KBoo2U: Did you all enjoy that?**

Falco and Gadd sat there, frozen.

“He’s—talking about the video,” said Gadd.

Falco stretched his wings over the keys and began to type.

**SpaceAce: Yes. Thank you for sharing.**

The other fan club members responded in the affirmative.

**KBoo2U: That was only the appetizer. I will continue to post videos until the joyous day when we finally have him in our clutches.**

**H.G.: We’d _love_ that.**

**KBoo2U: And maybe we can brainstorm the wonderful things we’ll do to him when that day dawns.**

“J—s,” said Gadd. “Well, say something.”

**SpaceAce: Er—I’m drawing a blank. Sorry.**

**Doc_Potts: I have an idea.**

**H.G.: Spill.**

**Doc_Potts: Trephination.**

“Wha…?” breathed Falco. He faced Gadd, who looked positively ill. “What _is_ that?”

“It’s—it’s a medical procedure where a hole is drilled into the front of someone’s skull,” Gadd queasily explained. “Namely, the middle of their forehead.”

“Oh, God,” said Falco.

**KBoo2U: You know how to do that?**

**Doc_Potts: Of course. I’m a medical man, remember?**

**KBoo2U: Trephination. I like it, Doc. I can almost picture you tying him down and then going to work on him with that drill.**

**Doc_Potts: >:)**

**H.G.: Don’t give him any anesthetic. I want him to feel everything.**

“Oh, dear Lord,” said Falco.

**KBoo2U: Bring a mirror. I want him to watch it.**

“God, help us,” intoned Gadd.

**H.G.: And when you’re done, maybe you can put something inside. Preferably, something _alive._**

**KBoo2U: Oh, yes. Like a nice, juicy worm. Or a spider. Or maybe a bunch of little spiders.**

“J—s, Mary and Joseph,” breathed Falco.

**H.G.: Let’s see his eyes as that living organism goes inside that hole.**

“Falco, shut it off,” Gadd commanded in a low voice.

**KBoo2U: Make him watch as the organism goes in.**

“Please, Falco, shut it off,” Gadd said again, in a louder tone.

**KBoo2U: And soup up the room with a good sound system. I want to hear his screams as the organism digs around inside his f—ing brain.**

“For C—st’s sake, man, shut it off!” Gadd barked.

“Okay, okay!” said Falco, disconnecting from the chat and logging out of the website.

The two men sat there in silence, shaking a little.

Tight-lipped, Gadd straightened his lab coat and turned his attention back to his workstation.

“No more distractions,” he said briskly. “The sooner we finish this new Poltergust, the better.”

Falco couldn’t have agreed more.

**1.1.1**

“Oh, man,” groaned MH as he bent double over the bucket, purging more of that black substance. “If any deity up there is listening—then please, _make it stop_!”

It took a while, but mercifully, his prayer was answered. Once he was sure that his stomach was steadied, he took a sip of herbal tea and then leaned back in his chair.

“It’s all right, MH. It’s all right,” Rory said comfortingly as he took the bucket and passed it to Remy.

“I have a bad feeling about—whatever that is,” said MH. “Something tells me that we need to get it away from the Smash Mansion before it hurts someone—or worse.”

“We have it tightly sealed in a secure area,” said Remy. “Let it _try_ to break out.”

“Don’t tempt fate,” warned MH as Remy carried the bucket out of the office.

The phone rang, and MH answered it. “Hello?”

“Hello, Master Hand.”

“Mr. Sakurai!” exclaimed MH. “What a surprise.”

“I was told that you wanted to see me,” said Mr. Sakurai.

“That’s correct.”

“Hm. That’s an odd coincidence. Because I want to see you, too.”

“And why is that?”

“Because we have your mole, Master Hand.”

“My—mole?”

“You know, the mole who was supposed to be my most trusted employee? The mole who helped arrange the secret meeting in Sarasaland?”

“My actions were my own, and to my own purpose,” the glove heard Jeff say, weakly but defiantly. “Master Hand had nothing to do with it.”

“Look at him, trying to claim full responsibility,” said Mr. Sakurai. “Truly, a faithful employee to the very end. But if Jeff wasn’t acting on your behalf, then how did you come across the recording of my conversation with Crazy Hand? It’s obvious that you had us meet under false pretenses, knowing that your brother would panic about the role he played in this drama. Coincidence? I think not. Don’t be bashful, Master Hand—step up and claim your reward.”

“I did what I had to do,” MH said firmly.

“Yes, well—so did I,” Mr. Sakurai smoothly responded. “However, I didn’t come here to rake you over the coals. I’m a businessman, MH. And as I businessman, I have a lucrative proposal for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s a three-part proposal, actually,” said Mr. Sakurai. “First, I propose that the suspensions on the two Steves be lifted, and that Crazy Hand resumes his duties as assistant master of ceremonies. Second, I propose that Chad Wrainwright surrenders himself to the aforementioned trio. Third and finally, I propose that all evidence of this Project Nerf nonsense be destroyed in an effort to put it behind us once and for all. In exchange, Jeff will be allowed to return to the Smash Mansion and resume his normal life.”

“Very interesting proposal you have there,” said MH.

“However, the latter will only take place once I see on the news that your brother and the two Steves have been exonerated and absolved of all wrongdoing. That’s my proposal, and it’s non-negotiable. I’ll give you until Halloween night to consider.”

“Hmm,” said MH. “It’s funny you should say that, because I just so happen to have a counter-proposal.”

“I’m sorry. Do you not know what ‘non-negotiable’ means?”

“Just hear me out, Mr. Sakurai. It just so happens that _your_ mole, the one snooping around in Sarasaland and possibly endangering many of my Smashers by choosing to tell you about Chad’s meeting, is currently in our custody. Reggie already told me that he could care less about Bentley, but you’re not Reggie, are you?”

A beat.

“No,” said Mr. Sakurai. “I’m not.”

“And now, we get to my counter-proposal. I return Bentley, you return Jeff. It’s as simple as that.”

Another beat. “When?”

“Later this afternoon—around 4p.m.”

“Where?”

“That I’ll leave to you.”

“There’s a park where I like to go to clear my head, with a beautiful stone bridge arching over a lake. We’ll meet up at that bridge.”

“Done,” said MH.

Sakurai drew in a breath. “If I let Jeff go,” he said, “then Crazy Hand will think he escaped, and—he’s _not_ gonna be happy.”

“Well, like you said, you’re a businessman,” MH said coolly. “You can placate my brother with another of your proposals.”

“True,” said Mr. Sakurai. Retaining an affable tone, he added, “If anything goes wrong before or during our transaction—then God help Jeff _and_ Bentley.”

_Click_.

MH sat at his desk for a few seconds before returning his phone to its cradle. Then, he floated out of the office to explain the situation to Bentley.

**1.1.1**

“Are you sure you want to do this?” asked MH as he and Bentley, joined by Remy and Rory strode toward the park.

“It’s not about what I want,” replied Bentley. “It’s about what needs to be done.”

“They could already suspect that we swayed you,” warned MH.

“I’ll take that risk,” said Bentley. “I don’t want innocent people getting hurt—or worse—on my watch.”

MH nodded. “Good man.”

Soon, the agreed-upon meeting spot came into view. The group halted, and the giant glove turned to Remy and Rory. “Wait here,” he instructed. “Prepare to act should anything go wrong.”

“You got it,” said Rory.

He and Remy watched as MH and Bentley continued on their way.

The two were soon stopped by a cheery voice.

“That’ll be close enough,” said the voice. “Thank you! Now, if Bentley could kindly proceed toward the end of the bridge on his lonesome, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Good luck, Bentley,” MH said softly as he squeezed Bentley’s shoulder.

“Promptly, if you please,” said the voice.

“All right,” said MH. “I’m sending him out right now.”

Bentley squared his shoulders and walked to the end of the bridge.

“Bentley!” greeted the voice. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Not severely,” Bentley jovially responded. “I’m a little homesick, though.”

“Fear not,” the voice said soothingly. “Your ordeal is near an end. We have some McDonald’s waiting for you.”

“Now that’s what I’d like to hear!” whooped Bentley. “Quarter Pounder with Cheese, here I come!”

He saw the distant figure of a man appear on the other side of the bridge.

“You may now proceed across,” said the voice. “Please, try not to make eye contact with the gentleman who will be passing you.”

“Very well,” said Bentley.

Master Hand, Remy and Rory watched with bated breath as Bentley and Jeff approached each other on the bridge. The former continued to walk with a confident step, while the latter had a noticeable limp. The Hand of Creation could only imagine what Jeff had endured in the interim.

As for Jeff, he wasn’t even thinking about it. Nor was he thinking about the pain. All he was thinking about was the sanctuary that awaited on the other side of the bridge, and crossing to it as quickly as possible.

Bentley walked with a slightly faster gait, keeping his eyes down and resisting the urge to glance at Jeff. He still didn’t know what was in store for him, but it didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was that he’d started to atone for his actions, and that the other man was closer and closer to safety because of him.

The two men were now approaching the center of the bridge. Jeff glanced up at Master Hand, who gave him an encouraging wave. Bentley glanced up at Mr. Sakurai, who beamed at him.

_This is it_, they both thought. _This is it._

Jeff quickened his pace despite his limp, and Bentley did the same.

And then—_something_ intervened.

Just as Bentley and Jeff met each other at the center of the bridge, a pitch black portal opened up under their feet and began to suck them in. Desperately, both men clawed at the stone floor in an attempt to pull themselves back up, but the pull beneath them was too strong.

“What’s going on?!” MH demanded.

“I don’t know!” replied Rory. “I don’t…”

“We gotta help them!” exclaimed MH, flying over as Remy and Rory ran after him.

The trio endeavored to pull Jeff and Bentley free, but their efforts were increasingly futile. On the other side of the bridge, Mr. Sakurai and his bodyguards made no effort to assist the imperiled pair.

And then the mysterious portal tore Bentley and Jeff out of Master Hand’s grip, Jeff managing to toss something to the Hand of Creation before he and Bentley were dragged under, screaming as they went.

The portal closed, leaving MH and his two companions staring after it in shock. Then, they glanced up.

Mr. Sakurai and his entourage were nowhere to be found.

**1.1.1**

“This is crazy!” exclaimed Rory as he, Remy and MH hurried back toward the Smash Mansion. “This is absolutely crazy! What was that portal, and where did it come from?!”

“We’re gonna find out,” MH replied in a low voice.

They reached the Smash Mansion in record time, where Jimmy met them, his face pale.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” he gasped.

“What’s happened now?” MH wanted to know.

“Let me give you the tamest of the news first,” said Jimmy, opening the YouTube app on his cell phone. “This video was posted online about 15 minutes ago!”

MH, Remy and Rory crowded around Jimmy’s phone as the video played.

It was a clip of Stevie, nursing the wounds he’d probably sustained during a Smash match. And when he glared at the camera and launched into a rant, they all knew that Luigi had been the opponent.

“[Bleep] this, I’m on f—ing Miiverse with my f—ing hands up,” Stevie was seething. “I’m not starting my f—ing self! You f—ing stupid [bleep]! This stupid f—ing justice, all f—ing righteous f—ing [BLEEP], Luigi, is doing this [bleep]! You f—ing [BLEEP]! I swear to f—ing God, I’m gonna…” He continued to rage about Luigi and his combos, and then he said, “You know what? Everyone type in the chat, ‘Luigi’s a stupid [bleep]’. Just type in the chat ‘Luigi’s a stupid [bleep]’. [Bleep] him. [Bleep] him.”

“It’s already gotten a thousand hits,” said Jimmy.

“Who posted this?” asked MH.

“We’re trying to find out,” replied Jimmy, “but that’s not the worst part.”

Rory groaned. “Do we even wanna know the worst part?”

Jimmy swallowed. “I don’t know how, but—Crazy Hand has escaped. Again.”

“What?!” MH interjected.

“My best bet is that he intends to take the two Steves with him, so they can wreak havoc together,” Jimmy went on. “Timmy and I tried to stop him, but—it appears he’s gotten stronger.”

MH composed himself. “I’ll send out a warning to the Smashers, visitors and spectators,” he said. “Miis will be out 24/7 in rotating shifts, searching for these three. We can only hope that we find them before unspeakable tragedy strikes.”

Little did they know that prior to making a break for it, Steve and Stevie had decided to leave a parting gift for the Smashers. And what a parting gift it would be…

**1.1.1**

Chad sat in the restaurant of the hotel he was staying at, a big smile on his face as he ate his food. Most of the Smash Mansion had probably seen his video by now, and the two Steves were getting a taste of their own medicine. After trying to vilify Mario, they’d been exposed as the salty monsters they really were. The New England native double-dared them to try and woo their way back into everyone’s good graces after this.

He pulled out his phone and checked his stats on YouTube. 1500 hits and counting. Master Hand would no doubt give him grief over this particular stunt, but it had to be done. He had to show Steve and Stevie that they couldn’t bully him anymore. And once the evidence against them was fully analyzed, they’d hopefully be expelled from this tournament, never to be seen or heard from again.

But a man could only dream, right?

Chad finished his meal, charged it to his room and stood and stretched before walking to the elevators. He got into one that was just opening and took it to his floor. When he reached his hotel room, he held his room key against the sensor, unlocked the door and stepped inside.

Everything was just as he’d left it.

Quickly, Chad closed the door behind him and engaged the deadbolt. Then, he turned on his TV, stripped off his clothes, jumped into a quick shower and changed into something more casual. He hoped to go for a little walk around the area, maybe do some shopping, before turning in for the night. But first, he needed to digest the food he’d eaten.

He sat in his bed, reclining on two propped-up pillows, and changed the TV to a Smash-related channel.

“Hello, Chad.”

He jumped, swiveling his head around to the source of the voice. And what he saw made his blood freeze.

Steve and Stevie were seated together on the small couch by the window.

“How did you get here?” Chad barked sharply, quickly sliding off the bed and backing away. “What do you want?”

“To answer your first question—that’s not really relevant right now,” cooed Steve.

“And to answer your second question—I think you know what we want,” added Stevie.

Chad made a beeline for the door as the two Steves stood from the couch and came toward him. Something in his mind warned him that his life was now in danger, and that he needed to get out of here _fast_!


	30. T Plus 29 Days

Master Hand sat in his office, deep in thought. Attempts to locate Crazy Hand and the two Steves, as well as Bentley and Jeff, were so far unsuccessful. The Hand of Creation considered reaching out to his twin to try and convince him to give up peacefully, but it was like he barely recognized him anymore. CH was known for his eccentricities, but this type of behavior wasn’t like him at all. What was causing the Hand of Destruction to act this way, and could MH do anything to fix it?

His gaze swung down toward the object Jeff had managed to toss to him. It was another tape recorder, presumably further implicating Sakurai in the mess that was Project Nerf. Jeff had done his job well, even risking his life, and if that portal gave any indication, he was now stuck in some other dimension because of it.

“Hang in there, Jeff,” MH said softly. “We’ll come for you soon.”

He hit “Play” on the tape recorder, sat back in his chair and listened.

“_I want something to be very clear here,_” said Sakurai’s voice. “_Princess Daisy _never_ sets foot into that Smash Mansion. I don’t care how many times her boyfriend lobbies me!_”

MH pressed “pause”. This wasn’t about Project Nerf. This was about the planned Operation Ballot Box! While the Bennigan Brothers had presumably abandoned the venture, who was to say that Mr. Sakurai would continue without them?

With a sigh, Master Hand resumed playing the tape, listening to Mr. Sakurai fuming on and on about Princess Daisy and why she wasn’t Smasher material and how she was better off as Tatanga’s queen. MH shook his head in disgust. Smash’s chief financier was no better than the Smashers who’d spent all of last month ranting to him about Luigi’s combos!

“He’s trying to bar Daisy from this tournament—all because of a poor business year?” he asked in disbelief.

MH’s intercom buzzed, and he pressed the “Answer” button. “Hello?”

“Master Hand,” Rory’s voice was low but frantic. “We need to evacuate the Smash Mansion _now_. The two Steves—they…”

“Rory, what’s going on?”

“We’ve got a containment breach! Steve and Stevie—they must’ve found out, and…”

There was a crash.

“Rory?”

Rory spoke urgently. “Get everyone out now!” he commanded. “If this stuff gets hold of somebody, then that’s _no bueno_! I—I’d better call Amy and tell her that I love her!”

“Stuff?” repeated MH. Then, it dawned on him. “Oh, Lord. That black swarm.”

“I think the two Steves wanted a last laugh at our expense,” said Rory.

“I have no idea how this is a laugh,” said MH. “Is anyone else in there with you?”

“Just Jimmy, Timmy and Remy. We’re doing what we can to repair the breach, but—it doesn’t look good.”

“Keep that stuff contained long enough for the building to be evacuated,” said Master Hand. “I’ll sound the alarm, and Lauren and Eden will be among those assisting in the evacuation. Good luck to the four of you.”

“And good luck to you, Master Hand. May God help us all.”

MH heard alarm bells ringing in the background.

Rory cursed. “Gotta go!” he cried before hanging up.

MH face-desked. “Could this day get any worse?” he asked.

A few seconds later, it did.

**1.1.1**

Chad Wrainwright had lost all sense of time since he woke up in a mysterious room with only a case of bottled water and a couple of boxes of Pop Tarts for company. His whole body was sore, and his head was pounding—when the two Steves had pounced on him, he’d made every effort to defend himself, but his martial arts skills were no match for their brute strength and collective rage, and they’d beaten him into submission before dragging him to—whatever this place was. It was a simple room with a bed, two lamps and a desk upon which a stack of blank white paper and a cup full of pens and pencils sat, and there was also a microwave on a shelf along with some paper plates and plastic cutlery. And to top it all off was an electric fan with three settings, in case the room was too hot.

So—the two Steves weren’t that cruel. They were giving him food, water and basic accommodations. But why did they bring him here? What did they want with him?

He would soon find out.

The door opened, and the two Steves walked in, a large bag of McDonald’s between them.

“Ah, Steve and Stevie,” snarked Chad. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We were just getting to that,” Steve said sweetly as he set the bag of McDonald’s beside the water and Pop Tarts. “Before that, however, we want you to know that you’ll be our guest for a period of time which is entirely dependent on you. Which means—we expect you to conduct yourself as a guest under our protection.”

“Don’t talk down to me,” scoffed Chad. “I already know I’m your guest. I just don’t know why.”

“Allow us to gladly explain,” said Stevie. “We’ve brought you here for two reasons. Reason number one—is for information.”

Chad flipped them off. “Go to Hell,” he spat. “I won’t tell you _jack_!”

“We know,” cooed Steve as he and Stevie approached Chad, the latter grabbing his arms and pinning them behind his back, “but we’ll _still_ be asking you questions. And each time we don’t get answers, there’s going to be trouble.” He grinned like a shark. “Are you ready to begin?”

Chad spat in Steve’s face. “[Bleep] you,” he growled.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” said Steve, methodically sliding on a pair of gloves.

But these weren’t just any gloves—they were made of black leather, and they could amplify the pain of any blows given times ten—maybe more.

“You’re going to give us all of the information on the whereabouts of one Charlotte Thorne,” said Steve as he fastened the gloves. “The name, location, address and room number of the hotel she’s staying at. Then, you will give us the names, aliases and locations of the people who helped you organize your little meeting.”

“Over my dead body,” Chad said bravely.

“Suit yourself,” Steve calmly replied.

And then he wound up and sent a punch into Chad’s face. An echoing _crunch_ rang out, a starburst of pain erupting from within Chad. Before he even had a chance to compose himself, Steve punched him repeatedly, his gloved fists targeting his face and upper body. Everything hurt, but Chad would rather subject himself to this torture than betray Charlie’s location and put her life in danger.

Steve’s fists flew until he ran out of breath. Then, he took out a handkerchief and delicately wiped the blood from Chad’s face.

“We’re going easy on you today, believe it or not,” Steve said softly. “It’s only gonna get worse for you unless you cough up the intel we’re looking for.”

“We’ll find out sooner or later,” Stevie joined in, “so it might as well be sooner. Steve, let me have a go at him.”

Steve nodded, and the two men switched places, with Steve holding Chad in place and Stevie donning his own leather gloves. Chad took several deep breaths, resolving not to scream, resolving not to show fear, resolving to give these two monsters nothing.

Stevie smiled at him, and then the cruelty started up again.

**1.1.1**

A potentially life-threatening situation was taking place in the Smash Mansion. Miis of all shapes and sizes were hard at work evacuating the building, ushering confused Smashers to safety. The evacuees were encouraged to take only essential items with them, and to grab only what they could carry. In order not to alarm anyone, the Miis only gave the bare minimum of details when explaining what was going on.

Soon, most of the Smashers were gathered on the front lawn, being served hot coffee, tea, cider or hot chocolate to combat the morning chill. Breakfast sandwiches were being handed out, as well. Everyone chattered among themselves, hoping that MH would give them some proper answers once this situation was cleared up.

However, there were some Smashers who were also knee-deep in the evacuation efforts, guiding friends, family and younger Smashers to the nearest emergency exits and instructing them to meet up on the lawn before they, too, made for safety. Among these Smashers, of course, were the Mario Bros.

The two had been sweating it out in the Training Area when the evacuation announcement was made over the PA system. Therefore, the Bros weren’t clad in their usual getup. Instead, they were wearing a pair of black leggings and a short-sleeved shirt. Mario’s was red, while Luigi’s was green. The first thing they did after the announcement was lead the Training Area’s other occupants to safety. Then, they helped Peach evacuate (naturally), followed by Rosalina, Yoshi and any other Smasher they encountered.

“He wants to try and marry her—again?” Luigi incredulously asked as he and Mario led Ness, Kirby, Pikachu and Jigglypuff toward an emergency exit.

“Yup,” sighed Mario. “He just won’t get the hint.”

“We’ve thwarted him the first three times,” said Luigi. “What makes him think we won’t thwart _this_ attempt?”

“You got me,” eyerolled Mario.

“Poyo?” asked Kirby.

“Oh, Kirby—I appreciate that you’d want to help,” said Mario, “but we need to deal with whatever this is first, okay?”

“Poyo,” chirped Kirby.

“Once they give the ‘all clear’, I think we should talk to Master Hand about this,” said Luigi. “He can help us keep an eye on that reptile.”

“And it couldn’t be soon enough,” said Mario. “Tomorrow’s Friday. I can’t believe another week went by that fast.”

“We’d better take Koopa’s ‘visits’ more seriously from now on,” added Luigi. “At least until this ‘royal wedding’ is nipped in a bud.”

“I was gonna say the same thing,” said Mario.

They encountered Meta Knight, Lucario, Fox, Falco and Lucas in the hallway.

“We got them,” said Fox, indicating Kirby, Ness, Pikachu and Jiggs. “You guys need to make a break for it, and fast.”

“Have any of you seen Master Hand?” asked Mario.

“My guess is that he’s also coordinating the evacuation,” said Fox. “He’s like the captain of the ship—during a disaster, he should be the last to leave. Hopefully, he’ll join us in the front lawn to conduct a head count.”

“Thanks, guys,” said Luigi. “We’ll see you outside.”

Kirby waved at the Bros as he and his companions were whisked toward an emergency exit.

“Right,” said Mario. “The others are probably getting worried about us. We’d better get going.”

Luigi nodded.

Briskly, they walked toward an emergency exit—and then they felt a curious rumbling.

“That doesn’t sound good,” said Luigi.

Quickly taking charge, Mario splayed his hand against the small of his lil’ bro’s back and hurried him toward the emergency exit.

“Quite a month we’re having,” mused the man in red.

“No doubt,” said Luigi.

Just as they reached the emergency exit, the Bros heard the sound of something being burst open. They wheeled about just in time to see a mysterious black swarm raging down the hall.

“_Dio_!” whispered Luigi. “Is that—is that the stuff MH kept puking up?”

“Indeed,” replied Mario, “and whatever it is—it’s become sentient!”

He was about to say something else when the black swarm suddenly noticed the Bros, sprouting tendrils and lunging toward them!

Instinctively, Mario planted himself in front of Luigi. “Get out of here!” he shouted urgently.

However, he wasn’t prepared for what Luigi did next.

As Mario faced down the approaching black swarm, Luigi threw open the emergency exit door—and then grabbed Mario and shoved him through!

Mario stumbled, catching himself before he could fall. Spinning around, he saw that the tendrils had wrapped themselves around Luigi’s waist. He dashed forward, shouting his brother’s name.

But it was too late. Mario could only watch as the black swarm yanked Luigi back inside the Smash Mansion, the emergency exit door slamming shut after them.

Mario stood there, gasping. “N—no—Luigi…”

“There you are!” shouted Lauren, running over with Remy and Eden in tow. “The other Smashers are waiting for you!”

“My bro! He—he…”

Lauren drew Mario into a hug.

“This black—thing—came at us, and Luigi pushed me out of the way, and—it grabbed him and pulled him inside! We gotta…”

“Master Hand’s still unaccounted for,” said Remy. “I’ll keep trying to get in touch with him. But right now, the front lawn is the safest place to be at the moment.”

“I can’t leave my bro in there!”

“Knowing him, he’ll fight his way out,” said Eden. “We’ll help out in any way we can, but we can’t risk you hurting yourself or worse.”

Mario continued to protest as the trio led him away.

_God in Heaven—please, don’t take my bro from me. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through…_

**1.1.1**

Luigi had made it a point to kick the emergency exit door shut before the black stuff dragged him further down the corridor. Now, he found himself in Master Hand’s office, where the hand himself lay on the floor, severely wounded. The white fabric of his glove was ripped, and an alarming amount of blood was leaking out. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing except that black swarm. The swarm whose tendrils were currently making a beeline for the office door.

Five seconds was all it took for Luigi to assess the situation. With a brief barrage of fireballs, he sent the entity recoiling backward, giving himself just enough time to close and lock the office door, as well as the windows. His attacker now had no means of escape.

With great effort, Master Hand pushed himself up. His vision cleared, and he saw Luigi, facing off against the black swarm.

“Wh—wha…?” MH weakly uttered. “L—Luigi?”

Without taking his eyes off the black swarm, Luigi addressed Master Hand. “Stay where you are,” he calmly instructed. “Try not to move, okay?”

“Wait…”

But before MH could say anything else, the black substance rounded on Luigi, taking on the form of a giant golem with a humanoid appearance, glaring at the man in green with glowing eyes. In response, Luigi let out a breath and raised his fists, a little shakily, but MH clearly saw his intentions.

“Oh, Luigi…” he murmured.

The shadowy golem had four pairs of arms, which were presently slamming and smashing at Luigi. But Luigi withstood the assault and counterattacked with unrelenting blows of his own, alternating between punches, knifehand strikes and kicks. Sometimes, he’d attack the limbs, but mostly, he’d pummel the golem’s face and body, since those areas appeared to be the most vulnerable. He launched himself like a rocket into the golem’s chest and executed his Cyclone attack, battering the golem everywhere. When the golem pounded and punched back, Luigi simply retreated and let his fireballs fly. MH could only watch in awe as he began to heal himself. Once this mess was over, he’d just _have_ to press Luigi for details on how he wound up here.

His train of thought was cut off when the golem launched more devastating attacks, from causing tremors and shockwaves to emitting painful sonic screams to spewing lasers and balls of dark energy to spawning tumors all over its head, tumors which could set off multiple explosions. Luigi soldiered through it all, fists and feet flying with cold precision, his body leaping and cartwheeling around the entity as he fought back as hard as he could. MH’s breath caught in his chest. He didn’t know if Luigi could defeat this—thing—but he understood that he’d try his d—ndest.

With an emphatic grunt, Luigi sent a mighty uppercut into the base of the golem’s chin, causing the giant to practically fall apart. Then, he turned and hurried over to MH’s desk.

“Wha—what are you doing?” MH demanded of him.

“What I have to,” Luigi replied as he found a big red button with a key slot under it.

MH immediately put two-and-two together. “Oh, no…” he breathed.

But Luigi could only think about his fellow Smashers, waiting it out in the front lawn. He remembered seeing the black swarm reaching out for Mario. This—thing—wasn’t about to go outside and hurt them on his watch!

Opening a drawer, Luigi rummaged around and pulled out a key, which he inserted in the slot below the button and turned to its safety position. The button lit up, and without a second thought, Luigi slammed his hand onto it.

Alarms blared, and steel doors and coverings descended over the windows and the office door.

Luigi had locked down the entire Smash Mansion, sealing the mysterious entity inside.

The entity regained its bearings in time to see what Luigi had done, and it was none-too-happy. Rearing up, it transformed into a quadruped with the head of a T-Rex and a scorpion’s tail. With an angry roar, it went on the attack, lashing out with both tail and head as Luigi lashed back with the strongest attacks in his arsenal. However, this form was more fearsome and ferocious than the golem. It pounced all over the office, trying to reduce Luigi to paste. It opened its cavernous jaws, intending to maul him. Its attacks drew blood, and one slash from the scorpion tail almost tore out an eye. But Luigi took these heavier attacks and got right back up, refusing to abandon the fight, refusing to let this creature attack anyone else.

“Luigi,” MH said softly.

After dealing a roundhouse kick to the creature, Luigi flicked his eyes toward MH. The Hand of Creation clutched a familiar iron hammer in his fist, the polished metal gleaming in the light.

“I think you might need this,” said MH.

With a grateful smile, Luigi peeled off the remnants of his shirt and accepted the hammer as MH tossed it to him. Then, he whirled back toward the creature and held his weapon at the ready.

“This isn’t a tournament battle, Luigi,” intoned MH. “Hold nothing back!”

Luigi obliged, striking back against the entity with harder blows, throwing his entire body into his hammer swings. Sometimes, he’d swing the hammer like a baseball bat, and other times, he’d slam down his weapon on the creature, so hard that he’d actually leap from the ground. He’d also do a variation of his Cyclone attack, except that he’d land scores of hammer-blows, rather than scores of fist blows. The extra firepower did its job, and the creature collapsed back into the black swarm after a stunning blow to its face.

Sweat slicked Luigi’s bare upper body and mixed with his blood, his chest pulsing in and out as he awaited the swarm’s next move. It levitated into the air before shapeshifting into a quintet of swords. Four of them were small, and the last one was colossal. Luigi readied his hammer, and then the swords attacked, slicing and slashing from all directions. The smaller swords could be deflected with well-timed hammer strikes, but the large sword was the main threat, spawning dark energy orbs which homed in on Luigi as it slashed. The slashes were extremely painful, and the orbs flung him around like a rag doll, but Luigi wouldn’t give up. In addition to pummeling away with his hammer, he attacked with his own projectiles. This time around, though, they weren’t fire-based—they were electricity-based.

Blue-green lightning lit up Master Hand’s office as the battle continued to rage between Luigi and the strange entity. The shadowy swords attacked in groups as well as individually, and most of their slashes were infused with dark energy. But the pulses of electricity deflected the worst of the energy orbs, and at one point, Luigi electrified his hammer so that he could take more out of his mysterious opponent. There was one attack in which the small swords would rip into him, followed by the large sword trying to finish him off. After that attack, the large sword would wind up stuck in the ground for a few moments, giving Luigi a chance to whale on it as the small swords buzzed around him. And then the large sword would recover, and then it would all begin again.

By now, there were bloody slashes all over Luigi’s body, and his face was swollen and bruised. He bit back the pain and continued to throw attacks, but MH didn’t know how long the man in green would last. Putting others before himself was one of his strongest character traits, but it had a tenancy to nearly get him killed. The Hand of Creation had to intercede before he wound up with a tragedy on his hands.

He watched Luigi put aside his hammer in favor of flying kicks and lightning-infused punches. When the blades continued hurting him, he hurt them right back. And whenever the large sword knocked him out of the air, he just walked it off. The five swords were eventually defeated when Luigi twirled his feet under him, dealing a terrific blow to the large sword. As the weapons dissipated into the swarm, Master Hand once again got Luigi’s attention.

“I’m still trying to recover from my own battle against that thing, but at least let me try to help,” said MH, wiggling his fingers and casting his healing power over Luigi.

While the glove’s magic healed the worst of Luigi’s wounds, several bruises and slashes still remained. Nonetheless, renewed vigor soared through Luigi as his hands lit up with that blue-green electricity.

“Thanks, MH,” breathed Luigi.

“You’re welcome,” said MH.

Then, Luigi faced the swarm, standing protectively in front of MH, as the entity thrashed along the ground in a rage. As the man in green watched, the entity took on its fourth form—a dark facsimile of himself.

He breathed, slowly, deeply and steadily, forcing back the memories of the False Smashers he’d battled seven years ago, along with the _person_ he’d been hypnotized into a year before that. The shadowy duplicate waved shyly before dropping into a fighting stance, and Luigi got into his fighting stance, as well.

“Oh, my God,” breathed Master Hand, remembering his disgraceful rant at Mario. He knew what Luigi was thinking about.

“We’re gonna be okay, Master Hand,” Luigi said as he and his duplicate circled one another. “We’re gonna be okay.”

The duplicate dashed forward, Luigi blocking and deflecting the ensuing attacks before lashing out with a sharp forward punch. From there, he went on the offensive, tripping the duplicate with a low kick before going to town with face and body blows. Unfortunately, this clone could give as good as it got, since it was armed with an exact copy of Luigi’s fighting style. Luigi wound up taking lots of pain from his own attacks, except that they were considerably stronger. He could almost understand why so many Smashers complained to MH about his playstyle. Almost.

But that wasn’t the point.

The duplicate tried to grab Luigi, but the latter put a stop to that with a searing blast of lightning. Getting up, the clone retaliated with its own lightning, except that it was a dark purple color. The electrical attacks clashed and flew back and forth as both sides dealt out harsh blows. At one point, the duplicate sent Luigi sprawling and then straddled him, unleashing rapid-fire punches to the face and chest. This lasted until a large lightning ball was propelled into the duplicate, knocking it away. Luigi rolled to his knees and leaped up, spitting out a mouthful of blood and re-engaging his shadowy copy. He got in close, grabbed the duplicate, butt-slammed it and began cutting it down to size with combo after combo. Blistering combos cannoned into the duplicate until Luigi was almost out of breath, a lucky few punches disrupting his rhythm. But then, Luigi utilized his trusty hammer, forcing the clone to pull out his own hammer, both weapons repeatedly pounding all over bodies. Gasps, grunts and cries of pain mixed with the sound of Luigi’s breaths and the pitter-patter of his sweat on the carpet. The perspiration caused clumps of his hair to cleave to his forehead and his pants to cleave to his waist, but the sweat and the pain and the blood didn’t bother him in the slightest. He’d simply grab quick breaths and brace his body for another grueling round.

After an extremely heated fight, Luigi rounded his lips, exhaled and swung his hammer, landing a clean hit on the center of his duplicate’s body. Limply, the duplicate dropped onto its back, and Luigi pinned it down and rained blow after blow on it until it dematerialized into the black swarm, which slunk away.

Breathing heavily, Luigi stood back up, glaring determinedly at the swarm.

“Wow,” said MH. “You did it.”

“We’re not out of it yet, though,” warned Luigi, and he was right.

The black swarm rushed at Luigi, enveloping him head to foot.

“J—s! Luigi?!” MH exclaimed, rushing forward.

He paused when the entity abruptly pulled away from Luigi, lingering there, as if to study him.

Luigi’s blue eyes glazed over, and his body swayed.

“No, no, no…” MH gasped, splaying out his fingers to catch Luigi as his knees gave out. “You can’t give up now. You have to fight. You have to stay with me.”

“It’s okay, Master Hand,” Luigi said softly. “It’s okay. I need to do this. I—need—to…”

MH frowned. “You know what it’s trying to do?”

“It’s trying to escape—to the Dream World,” explained Luigi, his eyelids fluttering. “I’m gonna—fight it—there.”

“Why the Dream World?” asked MH.

“It’s not gonna stop—unless I make it,” said Luigi. “Master Hand—please—trust me…”

“I trust you,” MH said unhesitatingly.

“Get a pillow…”

The Hand of Creation obliged, grabbing a pillow and a blanket from a small closet (he slept in his office sometimes). Gently, he laid Luigi on the blanket and placed the pillow under his head before loosely wrapping the blanket around him.

“Comfortable?” asked MH.

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to call anyone?”

“Can’t risk—anyone getting—hurt…” Luigi’s voice grew softer and softer.

“Well, too bad, because I’m getting help, anyway,” MH said firmly, heading over to his phone and dialing a number.

“Lauren? Eden? I need you two to get down to my office immediately. You can override the lockdown with your access keys. And for God’s sake, bring Mario with you!”

“We’re on our way.”

“Thank you.” MH hung up and knelt beside Luigi. “Whatever you’re planning, I hope it works,” he said.

Luigi smiled confidently, and then his eyes closed completely. Above his head, a rainbow-colored portal opened up—a portal to the Dream World.

“Whoa,” gasped MH.

The steel covering over the office door retracted, and the door opened to reveal Lauren, Eden and Mario.

“Master Hand!” Eden cried. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve almost finished healing myself,” replied MH.

Mario, however, zeroed in on his baby brother, asleep on the floor, bruised, burned and slashed. “Luigi!” he exclaimed, racing to his side.

“What happened here?” asked Lauren.

“Rory told me that the black swarm I was coughing up breached its containment,” said MH. “Shortly thereafter, it burst in and attacked me. Luckily, I was able to hold it off long enough for most of the Smashers to escape, but I was beaten up quite badly. Then, it dragged Luigi inside.”

“And he fought that—thing—himself?!” asked Mario.

MH nodded. “He was—protecting me. Protecting all of us. That’s why he locked down the building. So—whatever that was wouldn’t escape.”

“It was headed right for me,” breathed Mario. “I yelled for Luigi to hurry outside, but instead…” He trailed off. “That’s my bro for you.” 

Then, he glanced up, his eyes widening. “_Dio_,” he breathed. “Is that…?”

“Looks like it,” replied MH. “After Luigi locked down the Smash Mansion and defeated several of the black—thing’s—combat forms, it somehow put him to sleep to escape to the Dream World. He intends to fight the swarm there, but he needs your help, Mario.”

Mario nodded.

“That swarm is pretty crafty. It’ll probably channel Luigi’s worst nightmares to try and win, which means that we should expect an appearance from—_him_.”

“I know,” Mario said quietly.

He whispered something to Luigi in Italian before kissing his forehead, rising to his feet and backing up a few paces.

“You’re going in there?” asked Lauren.

“Yeah,” said Mario. “Don’t worry—I’ve done this before.”

“Wait!” Eden broke in. She held up a certain red vacuum cleaner. “I stopped by Luigi’s room and grabbed this.”

“Thank you, Eden,” said Master Hand.

Eden tossed the Poltergust to MH, and she and Lauren gently propped Luigi up so that the Hand of Creation could carefully slide it onto his back.

Luigi mumbled something, as if in thanks.

Mario turned to MH—and held out his hand to him. “Come on,” he said.

“You—you want me to come with you?” MH asked in shock.

“My bro could use all the help he could get,” said Mario.

“You’re right,” said MH, floating over to Mario and taking his hand.

“Eden and I will look after him,” said Lauren. “Now, go. Go!”

After exchanging a nod, Mario and Master Hand took a running start before leaping into the portal together.

**1.1.1**

“Here we are,” said Mario when he and MH landed. “The Dream World.”

The Dream World was illuminated by a beautiful sky of pinks and purples. Light green pathways crisscrossed the area. Around them, they could swear they heard Luigi’s voice, saying something. But they were unable to make out the words.

Ahead of them, however, was a shadowy building shaped like the Smash Mansion’s exterior. This building appeared _organic_, breathing and shifting and pulsing malevolently. No doubt—this was the work of the mysterious black swarm.

“Luigi’s probably inside that building,” breathed Mario, “hurt and exhausted and—we gotta go in after him!”

He took off running, and Master Hand followed. Just as they reached the door, however—

“There he is! There’s our bro!”

Several Luigis dashed onto the scene, soft green outlines tracing them. All of them were clad in stretchy black workout pants and no shirt, peppermint-stripe socks, brown work boots and wore that familiar green hat on their heads. Their blue eyes sparkled happily as they crowded around Mario, greeting him with loving hugs.

Back in the real world, Luigi laughed softly. Kneeling on either side of him, Eden and Lauren exchanged a look.

Meanwhile, the group of Luigis soon calmed down and reluctantly separated from Mario, looking him over.

“You shouldn’t be here,” said one of the Luigis. “It’s an absolute Hellhole in there!” He indicated the shadowy facsimile of the Smash Mansion. “That black swarm we pushed you out of the way of is responsible for that! It plans to create a corrupted, dreamy version of the tournament, and then use it to take over the Dream World!”

“And with you defeated, it will attack the real Smash Mansion again,” theorized Master Hand. “Why, though? Why did it target me? And why did it target Mario?”

“Maybe it doesn’t need a reason,” said another Luigi, “but it tried to hurt our Bro. We can’t let it hurt our Bro! We can’t! We can’t!”

“Big Bro’s in danger!” chorused the other Luigis. “Gotta help Big Bro!”

“All right, all right—settle down,” said MH. “As you can see, Mario’s okay—and he wants to help you.”

“He’s right,” said Mario. “You need me, and I need you.”

“And aren’t you guys a _dream team_?” added MH. “This is a threat you need to face together.”

“Together,” repeated the lead Luigi.

“Yeah—together,” said another Luigi.

“Together—with our Bro!” thundered the other Luigis.

“Help our Bro!”

“Do our best!”

“For our Bro!”

The Luigis sent up a rallying cry before everyone faced the shadowy building.

“Is that supposed to be a Dreamy Smash Mansion of sorts?” asked MH.

“Looks like it,” said Mario.

“Some of us are already inside, looking for a way to destroy it,” said the lead Luigi.

“Wait—there’s more of you?” asked MH.

“Oh, yeah. There are tons and tons of us. And we’re here for one reason only—to look after our Bro,” replied the lead Luigi.

“These Luigis are avatars of my bro, and they’ll guide us around the Dream World,” explained Mario. “Collectively, they’re known as Dreamy Luigi.”

“Dreamy Luigi,” repeated MH. “So _that’s_ why they refer to themselves in the plural first-person.”

“Have you also noticed how Dreamy Luigi looks a little different?” asked Mario.

“Kind of,” said MH, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of Luigis presently surging toward the Dreamy Smash Mansion. They were almost just as tall as Luigi in the real world, but they were also handsomer, braver, quicker to action—and had a slightly more muscular build.

“That’s because Dreamy Luigi is everything Luigi wishes he can be,” said Mario. “I consider my first trip to the Dream World one of the most important adventures of my life, because the level of devotion my bro had for me was fully realized.”

“I’m a godlike being, and this is throwing even _me_ for a loop,” said MH.

“Big Bro!” shouted one of the Luigis. “Let’s go!”

“And you, too, Master Hand—we guess,” added another Luigi.

Mario squared his shoulders. “Let’s kick some dreamy [bleep],” he said.

“I’m with you there,” said MH.

Master Hand, Mario and Dreamy Luigi marched into the Dreamy Smash Mansion and quickly found themselves inside a network of labyrinthine corridors, the black stuff oscillating around them. Shadowy versions of enemies from the tournament’s encompassing franchises patrolled the maze-like environment, attacking our heroes on sight. But Dreamy Luigi took the lead, clearing away these enemies and leading their companions toward a bulging, pulsing—growth.

“What the Hell is that?” asked MH.

“It looks like a core of some sort,” said the lead Luigi, aiming a hefty punch at the core.

The other Luigis followed suit, attacking the core until it burst open, revealing more of the Dreamy Smash Mansion to them.

A lightbulb went off in MH’s head.

“That’s it!” he cried. “We need to find more of these structures and destroy them if we want a chance at bringing this place down!”

“But this swarm isn’t gonna make it easy,” warned Mario. “The area’s packed top to bottom with enemies.”

“Don’t worry,” said the lead Luigi. “We’ll fight our way through.”

They continued on their way, battling more enemies and encountering a pool of boiling yellow acid below them. Dreamy Luigi helped Mario and MH across precarious platforms so that they wouldn’t fall in, and as they ventured deeper into the Dreamy Smash Mansion, more and more Luigis joined the party, enthusiastically greeting Mario and promising to protect him.

Soon, the adventurers came across a second core, dangling off the edge of the walkway they stood on. Near the core was a modest-sized Luigi face.

“Hop on, Bro,” said Dreamy Luigi.

They helped Mario climb onto the face’s moustache, and then the man in red called out to Lauren and Eden in the real world. “Can you hear me?” he asked.

“Loud and clear!” Lauren replied.

“Okay—I want you to gently pull on my bro’s moustache,” said Mario. “It’ll launch me toward that core.”

“All right,” said Lauren, taking one end of Luigi’s moustache, pulling it taut and then releasing it as Luigi winced slightly.

Mario flew through the air, his body arcing toward the core. He wound up, and as he approached the core, he swung his fist downward with all his strength, hitting the core with his signature Dunk. The core imploded instantly, a chain of Luigis catching Mario before he could tumble into black nothingness.

The Luigis pulled Mario back up and hugged him close.

“Be careful, Bro,” warned the lead Luigi.

“It’s gonna get more dangerous up ahead,” said another Luigi.

“We can help you, Bro,” chimed in yet another. “We can keep you safe.”

“Yeah,” chorused a small group of Luigis. “You’re in good hands, Bro.”

Mario smiled warmly. “Thanks, Bro,” he replied.

The Luigis giggled.

With Dreamy Luigi leading the way, our heroes descended into the bowels of the Dreamy Smash Mansion, destroying every last core they came across. All of these cores were guarded by tougher enemies, but they were no match for Dreamy Luigi. They attacked as parts of a whole, forming themselves into a ball so that Mario could kick them into hordes of foes. Forming even bigger balls, which Master Hand could bowl into oncoming attackers. Arranging themselves into tall stacks in an attempt to pancake their enemies. Molding themselves around Mario’s hammer and copying its shape to give their bro a better melee weapon. And performing a variation of the Cyclone move, in which they all spun in place, creating a vortex which sucked in enemies right and left and spat them back out. They also combined their powers to create large fireballs or lightning balls and defended Mario and Master Hand from incoming assaults by way of a stout human wall. Whenever they came across chasms Mario couldn’t clear with his signature jump, Dreamy Luigi created bridges so that their bro could safely get across. Master Hand did his part as well, chipping away at cores and enemies with his projectiles and barreling into hostile crowds with his swiping and punching attacks. However, it was Dreamy Luigi who carried most of the weight, punching, kicking, throwing projectiles and enemies, swinging their hammers and taking hits in their companions’ stead, determined to get Mario and MH safely to Point B.

One particular core was larger than the others, visibly pulsing like a heartbeat. A series of precarious platforms separated it from our heroes, and compounding the danger were groups of the larger enemies, along with that bubbling acid pool. Master Hand attacked the core from a distance by firing energy blasts, while Dreamy Luigi defended the giant glove and Mario from the approaching enemy patrol. It was the man in red who landed the final blow, decimating the core with an aerial double-footed kick.

Dreamy Luigi hastened Mario away as the core shuddered and then erupted in a starburst of brilliant light. The environment around the adventurers shifted, and they soon found themselves in a dreamy version of the Battlefield.

Taunting voices echoed around them, and Dreamy Luigi stiffened.

“You know who that is?” asked Master Hand.

Dreamy Luigi nodded. “The Bennigan Brothers,” they replied.

“But—didn’t they…?” Master Hand started to say.

“Yes, but it doesn’t change the fact that they did it,” snapped Dreamy Luigi.

Mario nodded. “I think that whatever this is is channeling my bro’s leftover anger at them to create malevolent dreamy versions of Stuart and his brothers.”

“Hey, how’s it going?”

Everyone snapped into their fighting stances as Dreamy Stuart walked in.

“C’mon then, Luigi,” taunted Dreamy Stuart. “Let’s see how well you fight without those combos of yours!”

Mario turned to Dreamy Luigi. “Whatever you do,” he cautioned, “don’t let him rile you up.”

Dreamy Luigi nodded before stepping out to face Dreamy Stuart.

Dreamy Stuart attacked first, aiming a punch at his opponent’s jaw. Fluidly, Dreamy Luigi sidestepped and returned the blow, harder, faster. Once Dreamy Stuart recovered, he threw a right cross, but Dreamy Luigi deflected the blow and retaliated with a hook to the body, followed by a roundhouse kick. Leaping forward, Dreamy Luigi followed up with a flurry of knifehand strikes, only for Dreamy Stuart to snatch them out of thin air and slam them hard to the ground, pinning them down and punching their face repeatedly. Fortunately, Dreamy Luigi escaped by sending a blast of lightning between their foe’s eyes and rolled to their feet, using a combination of fireballs and lightning balls to discourage Dreamy Stuart from rushing toward them. When Dreamy Stuart managed to close the distance, he found himself surrounded by several Luigis. The Luigis took turns ground-pounding Dreamy Stuart, and then the lead Luigi grabbed him, swung him around thrice and then sent him flying into another Luigi’s hammer swing. Using their hammers, the Luigis whacked Dreamy Stuart to each other, the lead Luigi finishing the attack by holding out his hammer in front of him and spinning into Dreamy Stuart, sending him flying a considerable distance before smashing to the floor.

“You dirty cheater!” growled Dreamy Stuart as he got to his feet. “I’m telling Master Hand!”

“This isn’t a tournament,” Dreamy Luigi shot back. “There are no rules here.”

Then, Dreamy Luigi hung back, waiting for Dreamy Stuart’s next move. And sure enough, Dreamy Stuart blindly charged forward, screaming like a berserker. With a small smirk, Dreamy Luigi met the charge with a series of heavy punches to the face and gut, followed by an uppercut with their hammer. Dreamy Stuart kicked from the ground, but Dreamy Luigi took the opportunity to go on the offensive with electrically-infused open palm strikes, doubling Dreamy Stuart with a forward knifehand strike, grabbing him, slamming down and firing off a string of karate chops.

A blast of searing lightning sent Dreamy Stuart back to the ground.

“I thought that didn’t work anymore,” he groaned.

“In certain situations,” Dreamy Luigi smartly replied.

Dreamy Stuart got to his feet and rushed Dreamy Luigi again, but the latter knocked the former backward with a solid hammer whack. After that, Dreamy Luigi decided to really turn up the heat, relentlessly hacking away at the dreamy version of one of their tormentors, literally attacking from everywhere at once during several points. While Dreamy Stuart managed to get some blows in, his fate was pretty much sealed. Dreamy Luigi grabbed him, flipped him over their shoulder and slammed him onto the stage before climbing atop him and letting loose with punch after punch.

And one last hefty punch caused Dreamy Stuart to dissolve into those swirls of black.

“The fun is just beginning,” chortled Dreamy Stuart before he dissolved completely.

And he was right. Shortly thereafter, the dreamy versions of Stuart’s brothers arrived on the battlefield. Dreamy Vince and Dreamy Manny were armed with crowbars, while Dreamy Shane was armed with a two-by-four with sharp nails jutting from one end.

Dreamy Luigi drew in a long breath as they studied the trio.

“C’mon, boys,” said Dreamy Vince. “Let’s eat this plumber for breakfast!”

And then the three of them charged, weapons aloft.

Dreamy Luigi spun around with their hammer, knocking their three opponents away in different directions. The first to recover was Dreamy Manny, who swiped wildly at Dreamy Luigi with his crowbar. His swings were quite easy to dodge, and Dreamy Luigi retaliated with quick but sharp body blows, knocking Dreamy Manny onto his [bleep] with a ball of lightning. Then, Dreamy Shane got to his feet, Dreamy Luigi whirling in time to block the incoming attack and push back with their hammer. With a grunt, Dreamy Luigi disengaged the weapons and sent a hammer uppercut into Dreamy Shane’s gut, knocking him into Dreamy Manny.

Master Hand saw Dreamy Vince attempting to sneak up on Dreamy Luigi and quietly floated over to him.

“Hey, you!” he boomed. “Snap out of it!”

“Wha…?” uttered Dreamy Vince.

Master Hand snapped his fingers, rendering Dreamy Vince dazed. Dreamy Luigi quickly ran over and laid him out to dry with a hammer blow.

“Typical,” sniped Mario as the Dreamy Bennigan Brothers dissolved into black swirls. “Those three have more bark than bite, so I didn’t expect this fight to last long.”

“There could be more, though,” cautioned MH. “We need to stay alert.”

Seconds later, MH was proven right when more jeers and insults filled the air.

“I wasn’t supposed to lose to you! You’re Player Two, God—mit!”

“I can’t believe a coward whipped my [bleep]! Now everyone’s gonna laugh at me!”

“Why did _you_ win, and not me?! You’re supposed to be a wimp and a coward!”

“I f—ing hate you! _I_ was supposed to claim the victory! Me, me, ME!”

“I’m sick and tired of those stupid f—ing combos owning me day after day!”

“You’re supposed to be the loser! The _loser_! Who do you think you are, stealing the win from me?!”

“Oh, no,” gasped Mario.

“Those are…” breathed Master Hand.

“The Smashers behind Project Nerf,” they said in unison.

Mario quickly approached Dreamy Luigi and pulled them into a hug.

“You can’t listen to them,” entreated the man in red. “You can’t give in. You have to be strong!”

“We know,” whispered Dreamy Luigi.

Then, Dreamy Luigi pushed Mario behind them as another challenger stepped onto the Dreamy Battlefield.

It was Dreamy Chad.

“Nah, you’re good, Mario,” said Dreamy Chad. “It’s _him_ I want.”

Mario narrowed his eyes and started to rebuke Dreamy Chad, only for a few Luigis to whisk him away.

“We got this!” the Luigis said confidently.

“I know you do,” said Mario. “But…”

“Please. We don’t want you getting hurt,” said the Luigis.

Mario couldn’t argue with them. He and MH watched as Dreamy Luigi engaged Dreamy Chad.

“Your move, plumber,” Dreamy Chad said cockily.

Dreamy Luigi tripped Dreamy Chad with a low kick and then swung their hammer full tilt, catching Dreamy Chad in the abdomen. Gasping, Dreamy Chad pushed himself up, only for five Luigis to surround him and use him as a punching bag. Dreamy Chad knocked one of the Luigis away with a spin kick, but the latter swiftly regrouped and launched a Misfire into Dreamy Chad, knocking him onto his back.

Then, Dreamy Chad spun around on the floor like a break-dancer, kicking at the backs of the Luigis’ knees. In response, the Luigis hopped onto each other’s shoulders, forming a small Luigi tower, before inviting more Luigis to join in. Dreamy Chad got to his feet and only had a second to gawk at the tower of Luigis before they jumped off one by one, each of them hitting him with a double-footed stomp or a ground pound. The last Luigi spun into Dreamy Chad with a Cyclone.

“Is that all you got?” taunted Dreamy Chad, shaking his head to clear it.

Dreamy Luigi wanted to retort, but they dutifully bit their tongue.

Dreamy Chad danced left, and then right, before dashing back in. And then Dreamy Luigi met him with a resounding punch which snapped their opponent’s head back before assailing him with knifehand strikes. Dreamy Chad’s face turned beet red, and with a loud “ENOUGH!”, he grabbed Dreamy Luigi and stopped their offensive with a harsh full-body tackle.

“No!” Mario cried, rushing forward to help.

A line of Luigis stopped him.

“Don’t worry about us, Bro!” they said in unison. “We can take it!”

Meanwhile, Dreamy Chad jerked Dreamy Luigi to their feet and started sending punches into their face. But to his surprise, Dreamy Luigi stopped one punch in its tracks with the palm of their hand.

“Not this time,” Dreamy Luigi said levelly before breaking free and grabbing their hammer.

Five electrically-infused hammer blows was all it took to bring Dreamy Chad to his knees. As Dreamy Chad began to dissolve, he just gawked at Dreamy Luigi.

“D—n,” he said. “You’re something else.”

And then he vanished into swarms of black.

“Bro—are you okay?” asked Mario.

“We’re fine,” exhaled Dreamy Luigi.

They blinked the sweat from their eyes and rolled their shoulders, and then their next opponent walked in.

“Hallelujah! Holy [bleep]!” exclaimed Dreamy Chase. “Where’s the Tylenol?”

Dreamy Luigi raised their fists, and then the battle began.

Dreamy Chase fought similarly to his real-world counterpart. However, he also threw bottles of Tylenol at Dreamy Luigi, who whacked them back at him with their hammer. Master Hand also noticed that Dreamy Chase really didn’t put a lot of effort into the fight, spending more time taunting his opponent than engaging him.

He nudged Mario. “I’ve seen Chase fight before,” he said. “He’s a lot of things, but a pushover isn’t one of them.”

“That’s because the Dreamy versions of these fighters are merely physical representations of how my bro sees them,” explained Mario. “In his mind, they spent more time complaining to you than trying to better their skills so they could better hold their own in a match with him. Thus…” He indicated Dreamy Chase.

“Why is this—thing—channeling the Smashers behind Project Nerf?” asked MH.

“Because—their words hurt more than their actions,” Mario replied.

“It wants to wear him down before pulling out the big guns,” reasoned MH.

“Exactly,” said Mario.

Dreamy Chase was defeated in a matter of minutes. And as Mario said, the succeeding Dreamy Smashers were relatively easy battles, barely even trying to put up a fight and mainly using their words as weapons. But Mario’s presence thickened Dreamy Luigi’s skin and allowed them to keep their head in the game, the insults harmlessly bouncing off of them. Dreamy Chase was followed by Dreamy Dark Pit, who managed to get some slashes in with his dual blades but tended to spam his side special a lot. After Dreamy Dark Pit was Dreamy Marth, joined by Dreamy Roy, opening the fight by taunting Dreamy Luigi in Japanese. Once Dreamy Luigi sent the duo packing with their hammer, they next took on Dreamy Kyle, followed by Dreamy Rolf, who supplemented his Gunner skills by tossing fish at Dreamy Luigi (no, really). Next on the list was Dreamy Mewtwo, who _did_ give Dreamy Luigi quite a fight before being pounded into submission.

Following Dreamy Mewtwo’s defeat, the Dreamy Battlefield fell still.

“Dreamy Luigi?” uttered MH. “You want us to take over for a while?”

“No—we’ve still got this,” said Dreamy Luigi. “Just—protect Mario, okay?”

MH and Mario exchanged wary glances.

And then the stillness was broken by a lone, echoing voice.

“Stupid f—ing combos—stupid f—ing combos—a lot of Smashers are getting sick and tired of ’em, anyway…”

Mario’s fists clenched. “Falco,” he growled.

The air around them seemed to pulse as Dreamy Luigi wrangled with their emotions. Above them, the sky turned stormy, a few raindrops beginning to fall. Dreamy Luigi tilted back their head and allowed the raindrops to fall on their face and cool their skin. They breathed out, and then the air lost its density as calm settled over them.

“Good job, bro,” breathed Mario. “Good job.”

A light rain shower continued as Dreamy Falco materialized on the Dreamy Battlefield.

“All right, Luigi,” said Dreamy Falco. “Let’s dance.”

Dreamy Luigi nodded. “Time to finish this.”

Dreamy Falco drew his Blaster, only for Dreamy Luigi to dash in and kick it out of his hand. Then, they dealt a hard one-two punch to the Dreamy avian’s face and swung their hammer into his midsection. With a grunt, Dreamy Falco doubled over, and Dreamy Luigi grabbed him, slammed him down and executed a blistering combo.

“I’ve wanted him to do that for a very long time,” mused Mario.

A hammer strike sent Dreamy Falco earthward, where he went on the offensive with furious wing strikes. But Dreamy Luigi’s blows were harder, fiercer, less predictable—as if there was something they’d held inside them for a very long time. The rain continued to drench both Dreamy fighters as increasingly unrelenting blows were exchanged between them.

“Maybe,” said MH as he watched the battle, “if Dreamy Luigi fights and defeats these Dreamy Smashers, he can put that lingering anger and resentment to rest for good, and he can truly move on.”

“Maybe,” echoed Mario.

With a yell, Dreamy Luigi sent a surge of lightning into Dreamy Falco.

“We were friends, Falco!” they exclaimed. “How could you say something like that to us?”

They fired off more lightning strikes, giving Dreamy Falco no time to activate his Reflector.

“Why couldn’t you just practice?” Dreamy Luigi went on. “There was no reason for you to manipulate those suits into getting us nerfed!”

“I was at the end of my rope!” Dreamy Falco defended.

“Then how come you didn’t talk to us about it?” Dreamy Luigi demanded of him. “Why did you have to lash out and say those words?”

“Would you have reacted differently?” challenged Dreamy Falco. 

“There’s a good chance we would’ve,” Dreamy Luigi replied in a softer tone.

“What about him?” Dreamy Falco indicated Mario.

“He just wants to protect us,” said Dreamy Luigi, “but if you’d talked to us rather than go off on a tirade, then maybe he wouldn’t have gotten upset. He was upset because your words hurt us and because we felt betrayed. One of our closest friends, going off on us like that…”

“I—I…” uttered Dreamy Falco. “I don’t know what else to say except…”

“You’re sorry,” Dreamy Luigi broke in. “It won’t make any difference.”

“I know,” sighed Dreamy Falco, “but it’s a good start, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Dreamy Luigi. “It is.”

“I’ll make this up to you,” promised Dreamy Falco.

“We know you will,” said Dreamy Luigi.

“There’s only one way to stop this,” said Dreamy Falco, waving his wing around the Dreamy Battlefield. “You have to defeat all of this thing’s combat forms. And trust me, it’s only gonna get harder.”

“We’re going to stop it,” vowed Dreamy Luigi. “It tried to get our bro. Big mistake.”

“That’s the Luigi I know,” said Dreamy Falco with a twinkle in his eye. “Good luck, buddy.”

“Thanks, Falco,” said Dreamy Luigi.

Dreamy Falco nodded and disappeared, leaving two stat boosts in his wake. One was an attack boost and the other was a defense boost.

“Maybe these can help,” mused Dreamy Luigi, picking up the boosts.

They gave the attack boost to Master Hand and the defense boost to Mario.

“Bro…” Mario started to say.

“You need them more than we do,” said Dreamy Luigi.

Just as Dreamy Luigi turned back around, a hefty punch slammed into their face. Another one soon followed, sending them to the floor.

“Hey!” barked Mario, sprinting forward.

A quartet of Luigis caught him. “Easy, Bro,” they said. “We’re not a little kid anymore.”

“Yeah, but you’re still a loser!”

Mario glared as Dreamy Steve and Dreamy Stevie sauntered onto the Dreamy Battlefield.

“I should’ve known,” spat Dreamy Luigi. “Only _you_ would sneak-attack me, rather than face me head-on.”

“Enough talk,” said Dreamy Stevie. “Let’s fight.”

“Mario, we know you want to help us fight them,” said one of the Luigis holding Mario, “but what if you lose your head, like last time? They’ll try to use your protectiveness against you.”

The Luigis smiled. “We’ll fight them. And we’ll win.”

The two Dreamy Steves rushed at Dreamy Luigi, but the latter sent them sprawling with a Cyclone. Then, a Luigi budded off to deal with each of the two Dreamy Steves, turning the battle into two heated one-on-one duels. Dreamy Steve and Dreamy Stevie had their usual grandstanding, but Dreamy Luigi had their high jumps, hard-hitting blows, pyrokinesis and electrokinesis. While the two Dreamy Steves performed some MMA-style ground-and-pound at some points, their bark heavily dwarfed their bite, since Luigi thought of them as dirty cowards in the real world.

“That was for the attack in the Training Area!” snapped Dreamy Luigi once they had the two Dreamy Steves on the floor, bleeding and groaning. “And this…” They pulled out their hammer. “…is for your horrible smear campaign against my Bro!”

Dreamy Luigi sent their opponents skyward with two awesome hammer swings.

“There’s something you need to know,” said Master Hand. “In the real world, the two Steves escaped again, along with my brother. Also, Chad’s gone missing.”

“Coincidence? I think not,” said Dreamy Luigi.

Further discourse on the matter was halted by a deep, booming laugh.

Dreamy Luigi, Mario and MH turned as three more Dreamy Smashers arrived. They were none other than Dreamy Wario, Dreamy Dorf and Dreamy Koopa.

“There he is,” said Dreamy Koopa. “That stupid, green-clad pain in my [bleep].”

“You’ve humiliated us for the last time,” Dreamy Wario chimed in.

“We’ll finish you off in two minutes,” vowed Dreamy Dorf.

The trio surrounded Dreamy Luigi, who stood in a balanced fighting stance.

“We’ll be the judge of that,” they quietly replied.

Dreamy Dorf charged a Warlock Punch and swung at Dreamy Luigi, but they dodged and swept their legs about, kicking Dreamy Dorf off their feet. With a growl, Dreamy Dorf grabbed Dreamy Luigi and Flame Choked them before slamming them onto the stage. They bounced off the ground once, and then Dreamy Koopa stepped in, slicing with their claws.

“Enough!” boomed Master Hand, strafing the battlefield with finger lasers and separating the three dreamy antagonists.

Mario tried to rush in, too, only to be blocked by a wall of Luigis.

“Please, let me help!” he cried.

“We don’t want to see you get hurt because of us!” the Luigis shot back.

Meanwhile, Dreamy Luigi got up, swirls of blue-green lightning dancing along their fists as they swung at their opponents. Lightning balls discouraged the three from triple-teaming Dreamy Luigi, while multiple Luigis assailed Dreamy Dorf and Dreamy Koopa, cutting the two hulking enemies down to size. Dreamy Wario tried to disorient his foe with his farting attack, only for Dreamy Luigi to evade the stinky blast and plow a spearhand strike into him. The absence of the tournament constraints made the dreamy trio more dangerous than ever, but it also added to Dreamy Luigi’s arsenal and gave them plenty more to work with. They could infuse their Smash attacks, aerial attacks, Super Jump Punch and Green Missile with electricity. They could incorporate their hammer into their Cyclone move. And they could fire off concerted blasts of electricity to keep themselves spaced.

The wall of Luigis slightly parted so that Mario could have a better look, but the Luigis were still reluctant to allow their brother to help. Dreamy Dorf, Dreamy Koopa and Dreamy Wario would have no compunction over hurting him, and if Mario wound up hurt, then the Luigis wouldn’t be keeping their promise. A few Luigis whispered comforting words to Mario, while some more rubbed comforting circles into his back.

“We can beat them,” they said. “We’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again.”

Still, Mario’s heart skipped a beat whenever Dreamy Wario did wheelies on his motorcycle and endeavored to barrel into Dreamy Luigi or tried to Chomp them, whenever Dreamy Dorf pulled off his infamous dark magic-infused attacks, whenever Dreamy Koopa shot out gouts of fire and slashed with his claws, and whenever the three managed to triple-team Dreamy Luigi. But for every Luigi who was slashed, stomped, bitten, buffeted, choke-slammed or otherwise manhandled, three more seemed to take his place. And these Luigis began fighting as more of a unit, rather than just attacking their foes individually. Their coordination allowed them to create even more attacks—combination after combination of the attacks which made the green-capped man a force to reckon with in the tournament. The three dreamy troublemakers hardly stood a chance—the blows they managed to land only made it less of a curb-stomp affair. Master Hand managed to slip past the wall of Luigis and pitch in wherever he could, swiping, swatting and crash-tackling any opponent who tried sneaking up on Dreamy Luigi.

Dreamy Luigi defeated Dreamy Wario first with an electrified Green Missile. They focused on Dreamy Dorf next, a few Luigis attacking his upper body and solar plexus while another team of Luigis attacked Dreamy Dorf’s footwork, eventually laying him out to dry with an awesome hammer swing. As for Dreamy Koopa, wince-inducing attacks flew between the combatants until an electrified, double-footed aerial kick from Dreamy Luigi sent the dreamy turtle crashing onto his back. A short line of Luigis then hoisted Dreamy Koopa and swung him around by his tail, faster and faster, before heaving him with a grunt, sending him sailing out of the Dreamy Battlefield.

“I love it when he does that,” sighed Mario.

Then, Dreamy Luigi turned to face their companions, sweating, bleeding, bruised and breathless.

“Oh, my God!” cried MH. “Can you go on?”

Dreamy Luigi nodded.

“Here,” said MH, floating over to Dreamy Luigi and casting his healing magic over them. “Once again, it should take care of your worst injuries.”

The area brightened, and another pathway revealed itself.

“Where does that go?” asked Mario.

“Only one way to find out,” MH said determinedly.

And with that, they continued on their way, Dreamy Luigi in the lead.

Following a trek through another Smash Run-style obstacle course, Dreamy Luigi, MH and Mario came upon a dreamy version of Final Destination. And just beyond that—was a small light in the distance.

“That must be the exit,” postulated Mario, indicating the light.

“Which begs the question—how are we supposed to get there?” asked MH.

Suddenly, a booming laugh eerily similar to his own echoed throughout Dreamy Final Destination. Dreamy Luigi readied themselves for another battle.

“Whoever that is, I’ll hold them off!” they said urgently. “The two of you need to get out of here right now!”

Mario was about to object when a large, disembodied glove, outlined by swirls of black and an ominous glow, swooped onto Dreamy Final Destination, grabbed the man in red and held him aloft.

“You’re not going anywhere, _Mr. Nintendo_!” the hand said derisively.

“Oh, my holy God,” breathed MH. “That’s—Dreamy Me.”

And then Dreamy Master Hand began to squeeze. Hard. Mario kicked, twisted and tried to burn his attacker to get free, but it was no use. Immediately, Dreamy Luigi ran to Mario’s defense, but their attacks hardly affected Dreamy MH. Even when a whole mass of Luigis dog-piled the entity, he refused to let Mario go.

Dreamy MH laughed. “Not so implacable now, are you?” he taunted. “Maybe next time you’ll _think_ before diving into the next dangerous situation that comes your way, thinking it’ll be _fun_!”

He squeezed harder. Sickening cracks rang out, and blood sputtered from Mario’s mouth. His eyes were cloudy and glazed, his breath shortening into feeble gasps, his face turning purple.

The real MH had a brainstorm. “He—he’s going after Mario because—oh, J—s…”

And Dreamy Luigi stood there, boiling with rage, as Dreamy MH continued to heap abuse on their bro.

“This is your fault, you know,” Dreamy MH went on as he applied more pressure, Mario letting lose a cry of pain. “You always have to go and play the hero, and now look where that got your brother! He’s traumatized because of you! He has an inferiority complex because of you! Why doesn’t he just _kick you to the curb_?! He has better things to do with his time than sit around trying to clean up _your_ mess! If you took a second to actually _be_ the hero of the MK, then maybe Luigi wouldn’t have to do it himself!”

The real MH bowed his head as memories of his own tirade swept across him like the tides.

Dreamy Luigi quivered with fury. Their nostrils pulsed in and out, and their fists clenched. They cast Dreamy MH a look of extreme hate. Their body was actually _glowing_…

“D—Dreamy Luigi?” breathed MH, snapping out of his guilt trip. “What are you doing?”

Dreamy Luigi didn’t even look at him, seeing only Mario in Dreamy MH’s unrelenting grip. And in a low voice, they spoke.

“Big Bro’s in danger. Gotta help Big Bro. Big Bro’s in danger. Gotta help Big Bro. Big Bro’s in danger. Gotta help Big Bro…”

Their voice gradually increased as the glow around their body intensified. Dreamy MH, still belittling Mario, was oblivious. However, the real MH apprehensively backed away.

“Big Bro’s in danger! Gotta help Big Bro! Big Bro’s in danger! Gotta help Big Bro!”

“Master Hand!” Lauren’s voice called from the real world. “Something’s happening!”

**1.1.1**

Lauren and Eden still knelt at Luigi’s side, staring open-mouthed. His face had hardened, and now he reached up, pinched the brim of his cap and tipped the headwear downward so that it covered his eyes. But that wasn’t what they were gawking at.

It was the “L” emblem on Luigi’s cap that had grabbed their attention.

It was—shimmering!

“Master Hand—something’s happening!” cried Lauren.

“What is it?”

“Luigi—he pulled his cap over his eyes, and then the emblem lit up! I—I think I’ve seen this before!”

“So have I,” said Eden.

“Okay, Master Hand, we’re gonna press the emblem now,” said Lauren. “Tell us what you see.”

She and Eden exchanged a nod, and then the women simultaneously placed their hands on the emblem before gently pressing down.

**1.1.1**

“Ladies…” MH said in wonder. “I think I recognize this, too.”

Dreamy Luigi hadn’t moved, still glaring malevolently at Dreamy MH. But the second Lauren and Eden pressed on the emblem, they began to grow.

And grow.

And grow.

And grow.

And _grow._

And **_grow_**.

And **GROW**.

And **_GROW_**…

Their voice echoed all around Final Destination, chanting Mario’s name. Text painted the sky above them, phrases like “Big Bro!”, “Do my best!”, “Help Big Bro!”, “No one hurts our Bro!”, “Big Bro’s in danger!”, “For our Bro!” and “With our Bro!”

Millions upon millions of Luigis amalgamated into a colossal giant, a giant which soon dwarfed the all-powerful Master Hand. This giant was armed with an equally giant hammer, which they clutched tightly in their fists. With an infuriated yell, the giant Dreamy Luigi charged at Dreamy MH with thundering footsteps and swung their hammer with all their strength.

The sound of the impact was so satisfying.

Dreamy MH howled in pain as he was forced to release Mario. The former landed safely on Dreamy Luigi’s now-giant palm, taking several wheezing breaths. Blood poured from his nose and mouth, and a hand was cradled around his side. If Dreamy Luigi had acted just a second too late…

“Bro…” uttered Dreamy Luigi, taking stock of Mario’s injuries.

“I’m okay now,” said Mario. “I’m okay now.”

“I’ve got you, Mario,” said MH, floating over and lightly touching Mario with a fingertip.

“Thanks, MH,” said Mario as replenished energy coursed through him.

Then, he turned to Luigi. “Thanks, Bro.”

“He—he—he hurt you,” Dreamy Luigi said softly. “He hurt our Bro.” Briefly and gently, they hugged Mario to their chest before placing him atop their cap.

“And you saved me,” said Mario.

But Dreamy Luigi stared across Dreamy Final Destination at Dreamy MH, their eyes narrowing and their breath coming fast.

“No one hurts our Bro,” they growled. “_No one_ hurts our Bro.”

Dreamy MH recovered and then faced Dreamy Luigi, further provoking them by making a “come and get it” gesture.

Dreamy Luigi raised their fists. “You’re gonna pay for what you did to our Bro,” they calmly vowed.

Dreamy MH chuckled. “We shall see,” he boomed.

And then the two giants dashed toward each other.

Dreamy MH fought similarly to his real-world counterpart. He formed his glove into a fist, either sending flying punches at Dreamy Luigi or trying to slam down on them from above. Or he’d hold his palm out flat to swipe, swat or meteor-smash Dreamy Luigi. Additionally, he’d viciously jab or poke his pointer finger at his opponent, “walk” his fingers across the stage to flick Dreamy Luigi, “drill” his fingers, fire dangerous projectiles and snap his fingers to briefly disorient his opponent. Unlike the real-world MH, however, all of his attacks had a dark magical aura to them, causing them to deal more pain, and some of them possessed some kind of homing ability.

However, Dreamy Luigi wouldn’t back down from this fight after witnessing Mario nearly get squeezed to death. Their enlarged hammer swung in wide arcs and hit strong and true, targeting key areas on Dreamy Master Hand, continuously pounding him into the stage or whacking some of his projectiles back at him. Sometimes, Dreamy Luigi would slam the hammer onto the ground, creating shockwaves which disrupted Dreamy MH’s attack pattern. And when they charged up that hammer with electricity, they could pull off more advanced attacks, such as sending out electric shockwaves or dealing out electrified, more painful blows.

Once Mario had fully recovered from Dreamy MH’s attack, he wholeheartedly joined the fray. There was this one attack the Bros employed together which took chunks of energy off of their opponent. It involved the two spinning in the air together before Dreamy Luigi stomped down hard on Dreamy MH, leaving the glove writhing and allowing Dreamy Luigi to mercilessly pound away without having to worry about a counterattack. Unfortunately, executing the attack would take a lot out of Mario, so this move had to be used sparingly. Another attack involved Mario creating a large fireball, and then Dreamy Luigi would whack the fireball into Dreamy MH. Once again, this attack would cost Mario some energy, so they’d use this attack whenever they were in a real bind.

“Hey!” cried MH. “Let me in on some of that!”

He made a finger gun, charged up a large projectile and fired. Seeing what he was doing, Dreamy Luigi pulled back their hammer and sent the projectile flying into Dreamy MH. Unlike Mario, MH wouldn’t get tired after performing these attacks. He’d also occasionally strafe his dreamy counterpart with his finger lasers. The team of Master Hand, Mario and Dreamy Luigi soon became unbeatable.

“This is more difficult than I thought,” mused Dreamy MH. “Time to call in some backup.”

A familiar giggle split the air, and sure enough, Dreamy Crazy Hand floated onto the battlefield, his digits wriggling wildly.

“I’m not too late, am I?” he brightly asked.

“No, my dear brother,” chortled Dreamy MH. “As a matter of fact, the party’s just getting started!”

As one, the Dreamy Hands attacked Dreamy Luigi and their allies. Dreamy CH also had his real-world counterpart’s unpredictable attacks, from dragging his fingers across the stage to making tears in space and time to tossing ascending platforms at his opponents. He and Dreamy MH coordinated their own attacks as well, tossing large energy balls back and forth like volleyballs or distracting Dreamy Luigi so that they’d run into the other’s attack. Dreamy CH also showered the area with bombs, jammed purple sticks into Dreamy Final Destination and brought dark magic-tinted blows to the table. Did I mention that he also shared some of Dreamy MH’s attacks?

With their hammer, electricity and might, Dreamy Luigi held up well against the Dreamy Hands, attacking their wrists, palms, carpals and knuckles, knocking bombs and energy balls off course and using their electrokinesis to neutralize other attacks. MH aided with sneak attacks, blasting off with his Jetstream move and slamming into Dreamy CH before looping around and sending his fist into Dreamy MH. However, it was Dreamy Luigi who bore the most firepower, burning from the image of Mario struggling against Dreamy MH’s grip, from the words Dreamy MH had said during that attack and—from the words the real MH had thrown at him so many weeks ago.

“We don’t care if you’re a godlike being watching over an entire multiverse,” Dreamy Luigi spat, and MH knew that they were addressing him as well as the Dreamy Hand. “Lay a finger on Mario, and we. Will. Rain. Down. Hell. On. You.” Each word was punctuated by a devastating hammer strike.

As the battle wore on, however, MH noticed something alarming. Dreamy MH and Dreamy CH appeared to be growing stronger, frightening auras encircling their bodies. He glimpsed the fire in Dreamy Luigi’s eyes as they continued to valiantly battle the two Dreamy Hands. He glimpsed Mario, perched atop Dreamy Luigi’s cap, helping out in any way he could. He sensed the deep and powerful love between these two brothers. And he also sensed the naked malevolence Dreamy Luigi directed at Dreamy MH.

Was Dreamy Luigi’s rage making Dreamy MH and Dreamy CH stronger?

That made sense, didn’t it? Mario had probably told Luigi about that exchange in the office, and Luigi’s demeanor toward MH hadn’t really been the same since. Adding to the fact that the Hand of Creation suspended the man in green after he defended Mario against that misguided attack—

Oh.

Oh.

Oh…

And since they were in Luigi’s dreams, and the Dreamy Hands were a visual representation of how Luigi currently viewed them—

Oh, dear. Oh—oh, dear.

“I think I know what I have to do now,” MH murmured to himself. “I think I know—what I have to do…”

There was a thunderclap, and heavy rain began to drench Dreamy Final Destination. The Dreamy Hands and Dreamy Luigi continued to give it their all, their blows pounding into each other like comets. The baleful look on the latter’s face said more than any word in the dictionary, and now there was no doubt in MH’s mind. The dreamy versions of himself and Crazy Hand were using that leftover resentment as fuel.

Dreamy Crazy Hand grabbed Dreamy Luigi around the waist and squeezed repetitively, his squeezes having an electrical effect. Concentrating hard, Dreamy Luigi built up all of their power, and with an explosion of lightning, they broke free of that death grip. MH jumped into action then, grabbing both Dreamy Hands, squeezing them once and then putting them into a deep sleep.

“All right—huddle up, team,” he said.

Dreamy Luigi limped over to MH. Both of their eyes were blackened, more bruises and lacerations decorated their face, and their upper body was decorated with bruises, contusions and burns. They also sported a very bloody nose and mouth, and they were still wired. Lightning still snapped in those blue eyes as Dreamy Luigi levelly regarded Master Hand.

The giant glove floated downward so that he was at eye level with Dreamy Luigi. “Why don’t you take a knee for a second?” he said.

Dreamy Luigi obliged.

“This also concerns you, Mario, so you should listen, as well,” said MH.

“Okay,” Mario said crisply, still resting atop Dreamy Luigi’s cap.

“I’ve waited long enough to say this, and the worst-case scenario is that now could be the only opportunity I have left.” MH took a deep breath, and then he began. “Mario, I’m sorry about everything. I’m sorry for exploding at you. I’m sorry for blaming you for what happened to you 14 years ago. I’m sorry for blaming you for Luigi’s misfortunes. I’m sorry for implying that you just get off on the adventure. Nothing could be further from the truth. You’re a good man, Mario, a great man. You fight for what’s right, and you fight for your loved ones, and while you’ve done some questionable things, they were always with the best of intentions. Everyone either wants to be like you or _be_ you. And the way you look out for others, especially your brother, is admirable. Everything that Star Gate said about you is correct, and don’t stop fighting the good fight at the slightest whiff of adverse circumstances.

“You make mistakes, but you learn from them. You’re a positive role model regardless. That night, I didn’t know what I was thinking. I’m guessing that black swarm was in control, but it still doesn’t excuse my tirade. Truth is, I was already stressing out about the rumors of the update patch, and I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have let my temper get the better of me, and with time, I hope we can rebuild the bridge between us.”

“You’re off to a good start, helping my bro and all,” Mario said softly.

“And Dreamy Luigi—I’m sorry for shouting at Mario,” MH went on. “I’m sorry for paying too little attention when those Smashers were complaining about your down throw. I should’ve smelled something in the water, but I didn’t, and now, you’re paying the price. This tournament was nearly subverted on my watch, and not only that, but also my own brother was behind it. And then, my brother had four trusted members of my entourage attack Mario. They cornered him like an animal, beat him and cut him down with horrible words. They probably would’ve done worse if you hadn’t walked in. And then I punished you for defending your brother because you were fighting outside of a scheduled tournament match, but what other choice did you have? That doesn’t even take into account the fact that I added to Mario’s suspension, as well.

“And when the two Steves spread those lies over the newspaper—I believed them. When I called Mario into my office, I was _frightfully_ upset. I actually thought that he’d deliberately planned to attack those two that day. Even though the black swarm probably took control once again, I feel horrible over what I said. I still believe that what Mario did was wrong, but my own reaction was out of line.

“I let both of you down, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my days. I let you down, and I disrespected you. I f—ed up big time, and I hope that going forward, I can eventually earn your forgiveness. However, in case we don’t make it out of this, I just want you to know—it’s been an honor having you in my tournament.”

Dreamy Luigi and Mario listened to the _mea culpa_ in silence, their faces neutral. Slowly, however, their facial features relaxed, and while the memory of MH’s actions still hurt, both Bros realized that they had to take some responsibility, as well. Mario knew that he shouldn’t have pounced on the two Steves, and if he hadn’t, then everything wouldn’t have snowballed the way it did. And Dreamy Luigi had to concede that MH was just as much a victim of Project Nerf as they were. Even godlike beings could be fooled sometimes.

It was Dreamy Luigi who reacted first, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling. They felt the driving rain on their skin and a cool wind beginning to blow. And deep down, they knew that it was time to let this go and move on. It would be hard, but it would be done.

Mario felt Dreamy Luigi relax, and he allowed that singular peace to enter him, as well. MH had stepped out of line, but so had he, nearly breaking the MK’s faith in him. What kind of example was he setting when he attacked two people who were minding their own business, regardless of the fact that they attacked Luigi just a day prior?

“I’m sorry, too, Master Hand,” said Mario. “My decision to rage out on the two Steves sent all of this into a downward spiral. I showed poor judgement, and I swear on my life that I’ll never lose control of myself like that again.”

Now, both MH and Mario sensed the worst of the anger alighting from Dreamy Luigi. The former could see the beginnings of forgiveness in the giant’s eyes, while the latter listened to his brother’s breathing evening out. Master Hand’s speech had worked its magic, and now, Dreamy Luigi was ready to focus. They tightened their grip on their hammer as they sensed their adversaries awakening from their induced slumber. Now that their mind had cleared, they had a better chance at defeating these two!

“Go get them, Dreamy Luigi!” exhorted MH. “Utilize all of the skills you know, and win the day!”

Nodding to MH, Dreamy Luigi rejoined the Dreamy Hands on the battlefield. After exchanging hard stares, the battle resumed without a word of preamble.

Right off the bat, MH noticed that the Dreamy Hands weren’t as strong as before he pulled the Bros aside for that chat. Dreamy Luigi’s attacks had a bigger effect on them, and swirls of black flew off of them with every blow they took.

“That’s right,” breathed MH. “Do it, Luigi. Do it…”

The Dreamy Hands’ movements gradually turned slow and sluggish as Dreamy Luigi laid into them, and they visibly shrunk in size. While they still managed to get some blows in, the ball was firmly in Dreamy Luigi’s court. Whenever Dreamy MH or Dreamy CH knocked the giant down, they got right back up. Whenever those two hit Dreamy Luigi, they hit back harder. And of course, Mario never ran out of ways to help. Together, this dream team laid one Hell of a smackdown on the Dreamy Hands, and MH savored every second of it.

Following a spirited hammer blow, Dreamy Luigi had Dreamy MH and Dreamy CH in a heap on the floor. They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, allowing the slackening rainstorm to cool them off.

Then, Dreamy Luigi reached up and allowed the tip of his pointer finger to trail down Mario’s back. “Ready?”

Mario grinned. “Ready.”

Dreamy Luigi crouched down and blasted off into space as Master Hand followed.

The Hand of Creation watched as Dreamy Luigi produced a giant star and held it out, allowing Mario to hop aboard.

“Holy [bleep],” he uttered. “Is that…?”

“Yup,” said Mario.

“Mind if I Smash-ify it for you?” asked MH.

“Why not?” replied Dreamy Luigi.

MH joined Mario aboard the star, the Smash emblem appearing on its base.

“Hold on,” said Mario.

MH obliged as Dreamy Luigi gripped one edge of the star with both hands and rapidly spun it around a few times before hurling it like a discus. The star sailed downward, re-entering the atmosphere and bearing down on the fallen Dreamy Hands.

“Keep her steady,” Mario said to MH. “The goal is to aim for their weak point.”

“Weak point. Got it,” said MH.

Together, MH and Mario steered the star toward the Dreamy Hands’ most vulnerable area. Then, they braced for impact as they rammed directly into their adversaries.

Twin echoing cries sounded as the Dreamy Hands reeled from the final blow, and then they collapsed into a giant black mass which turned tail and fled.

“Oh, man,” gasped MH as he and Mario got to their feet. “That was totally _wicked_!”

Dreamy Luigi floated down, still in their giant form, and gently alighted on the ground.

“That swarm will be back,” they warned. “We need to get you two out of here.”

They held out their hand, and Mario jumped onto it before Dreamy Luigi placed him back onto their cap. Master Hand simply perched onto Dreamy Luigi’s shoulder. And with long strides, Dreamy Luigi headed for the exit.

“You’ll be home free,” said Dreamy Luigi, “if you just jump through that light.”

“Bro—I don’t know what’s up ahead,” said Mario.

“Neither do we,” said Dreamy Luigi, “but whatever form that—thing decides to take next—it could be a more dangerous form than facsimiles of MH and CH.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any more help?” asked MH.

“As long as we keep it engaged, it can’t hurt anyone else,” Dreamy Luigi said softly. “I’m thankful we got to clear the air a little bit, though, Master Hand.”

“Ditto,” said MH.

“It’s your choice, you guys,” said Dreamy Luigi. “Luigi—will follow you…”

They were now at the exit. MH peered through the bright light and saw Luigi still resting in the office, Lauren and Eden remaining at his side.

“And no matter what,” Dreamy Luigi went on, “we’re all here for you. Always.”

“Thank you, Dreamy Luigi,” said MH.

Dreamy Luigi smiled at MH, but it was short-lived.

“What?” asked MH.

Dreamy Luigi narrowed their eyes. “We _smell_ something,” they said.

There was a distant cackle, and then Dreamy Luigi’s eyes widened. “Oh, God…” they uttered.

MH bristled. “It’s—it’s _him_, isn’t it?” he asked.

“We know that laugh anywhere!” Dreamy Luigi said frantically, herding Mario and MH toward the exit.

“Luigi…” Mario started to say.

“He’s gonna use you against us!” Dreamy Luigi interrupted. “If we don’t have leverage for him to use, then we have better chance at beating him. The two of you need to wait with Eden and Lauren in the office. Don’t let anyone back inside until we finish that thing once and for all.”

“With my powers…” objected MH.

“You both were a big help, and we don’t doubt for a minute that you’ll curb-stomp that psycho, Master Hand,” said Dreamy Luigi. “We’re very happy that we got to have this adventure with you—but now, you must leave!”

And then they shoved Mario and MH through the exit before either of them could get a word out.

MH wrapped his fingers around Mario and checked his landing so that the two wouldn’t clumsily topple back into his office. For a few seconds, they lay there, reorienting themselves to the real world. Then, they joined Lauren and Eden at Luigi’s side.

“I got you, Lil’ Bro,” whispered Mario as he took Luigi’s hand. “I got you.”

Luigi was currently frowning deeply in his sleep, small grunts and whimpers escaping him as his breath came fast.

MH splayed himself flat on the floor. “Bring him over here,” he said. “Quickly!”

Lauren, Eden and Mario obliged, carrying Luigi, along with the blanket and pillow, to the Hand of Creation.

“Place him on top of me,” instructed MH.

When they did as they were told, a light blue glow emanated from MH’s palm and began suffusing Luigi.

“What are you doing?” asked Mario.

“I’m going to try and protect him against possible illusions,” explained MH. Then, he huffed. “I totally called it. I knew that this—abomination—was going to channel _him_. First, it took on the forms of the Bennigan Brothers, then of the Smashers involved in Project Nerf, then of Dorf, Koopa and Wario and then of me and Crazy Hand. Luigi’s dream avatar handed them their [bleeps], so now the entity is using _him_ as its last—well, you know what I mean.”

“Why does he want to face a dreamy version of _him_ alone?” asked Eden. “You guys could’ve helped.”

“When it comes to _him_, Luigi wants to keep those near and dear to him as far away from his wrath as possible,” said MH. “I even got a call from the Professor a few days ago. He said that Luigi would want to regularly commute between here and the Bunker so he could…”

“Wow,” said Lauren.

Mario continued holding Luigi’s hand as he stroked his hair with the other. “We’re with you,” he said. “We’ll be with you from start to finish.”

Luigi gave a quiet hum, as if acknowledging Mario.

“Wait!” cried Eden. “I think he’ll be more at ease if he was holding the vacuum.”

Mario nodded, and they all took the Poltergust’s nozzle and eased it into Luigi’s hands. Automatically, his fingers closed around it.

“His dreamy avatar wasn’t wearing one, though,” said MH. “Unless it magically appeared after he sent us back here.”

“Yeah,” said Lauren. “Maybe.”

They knelt around Luigi in a silent circle, watching and whispering encouragement as he quite literally battled his worst nightmares. Mario bit his lip, wondering if he should tell MH about the fan club Falco was currently infiltrating.

Unless he knew already.

The man in red climbed onto MH’s palm and lay down beside Luigi, continuing to sift his fingers through his lil’ bro’s hair and wiping some of the sweat from his forehead before resting his own forehead against it. Quietly, he spoke to Luigi in their mother tongue, giving him the strength he needed to stay in what was shaping to be a very harrowing fight.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Do it, Bro. Do it.”

**1.1.1**

Outside the Smash Mansion, the other Smashers had found out about Luigi’s self-sacrificing act and were currently waiting in suspense. News vans pulled into the lot as the story broke, intrepid reporters interviewing tournament employees and participants alike. Trusty camerapersons broadcasted this breaking news story to millions of other viewers watching with bated breath at home.

Theo and Vanessa had shooed their kids to their rooms as soon as the news broke. The two of them sat together in front of the TV, Vanessa sending a few texts to Peach and Theo texting Mario before the latter slid a comforting hand over his spouse’s.

“Luigi,” said Theo, “if you make it out of this, then my family and I will treat you better from now on. That’s a promise.”

In Sarasaland, Daisy dismissed all of her attendants and alertly watched the breaking news report, soothing herself with a cup of hot chocolate. She thought about her beloved, facing off alone against a malevolent black swarm, and she put all of her faith in him.

“You got this, sweetie,” she said. “You got this.”

In Evershade Valley, Professor Elvin Gadd and his assistants, joined by some of the valley’s ghosts, sat in a circle on the Lab’s floor, holding hands and bowing their heads in prayer as the news reporters continued to bring live updates to the situation.

_If you can beat ghosts, then you can beat _this, thought Gadd. _Rise up, youngster! Fight!_

And inside the Bunker, the captured Boos streamed the news reports on their laptops, joining their King in pretending not to care about what happened to Luigi.

“Come on, you idiot,” the King muttered under his breath. “Give me a reason to wake up in the morning.”

The word of the hour was—steady. _Steady—_

**1.1.1**

Back inside Master Hand’s office, a change began to creep over Luigi. His eyelids stopped twitching. His breathing evened out. His face settled into an intent, intensely determined look. Some of the tension left his slumbering body.

“No,” he murmured. “You’ll never get your hands on them. Never. _Never…_”

“He’s talking to…” mused Eden.

“Shh. I know,” whispered MH.

“Terrorize me, beat me, burn me—I don’t care. Until the day I die—I’ll protect them from you…”

“You tell him, Bro,” said Mario.

“I’m taking back my life, and you have no place in it. Go away. _Go away_.”

Time hung there for a few moments—and then it started moving again.

Luigi’s body further relaxed on MH’s palm. His facial expression softened, and he released a deep, shaky sigh.

“Oh, my God,” breathed MH. “He did it. He beat _him_.”

“That’s my Bro,” whispered Mario, kissing Luigi’s cheek.

A smile stretched onto Luigi’s face, and a soft snore escaped from him, followed by another and another and another. He looked—positively peaceful.

“Is it just me—or does he look absolutely adorable when he sleeps?” asked Lauren.

“He sure does,” said Mario, drawing Luigi into his arms.

“Aw, d—mit,” groused MH. “Now, _I_ don’t want to wake him up.”

But alas, now was no time to rest. Everyone glanced up as the portal to the Dream World reopened and expelled the black swarm, which landed limply on the floor. Seconds later, Luigi woke up, sitting up in MH’s palm, smoothing his hair and adjusting his cap.

“Are you guys all right?” he asked in a low, urgent voice.

“Yes,” replied Eden. “Are _you_ all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Luigi. “That—thing—tried to overtake my dreams, but I didn’t let it.”

“And it appears that you booted it out of the Dream World,” said MH. “Look…”

Everyone watched as the black swarm grouped into a ball shape and rose into the air. Luigi got to his feet and stood in front of his companions as a shimmering light bathed the swarm.

“I’ll take it from here,” he said. “Go.”

“Luigi, for the love of God…” MH objected.

“I wasn’t asking,” Luigi broke in, steering MH, Mario, Eden and Lauren toward the door.

Knowing they were beat, the quartet walked fairly fast out of the office, Luigi closing and locking the door after them.

The shimmering light briefly flashed, and then it receded, the entity having transformed into a spherical orb with the Smash symbol on it. At first glance, one would think that it was a Smash Ball.

Luigi watched as the orb gently descended toward the ground. And then he knew—he had to destroy it. He had to end the threat it posed—for good.

He took a preparatory breath and lit into the orb, giving each blow everything he had left, the wounds he’d sustained be d—ned. Each blow launched the orb backward, but it always returned to him. But as Luigi punched it harder and harder, the orb launched farther and farther, taking on an ominous red color. He didn’t have much time…

And then he held his palm flat, cocked his elbow, summoned every drop of the emotions raging within him—

—and a mighty shout ripped from his lungs as he speared his open hand into the orb.

The Smash attack was the piece de resistance. The entity’s fate was sealed.

As the orb shuddered and blinked, Luigi wasted no time gawking. Shouting a warning to the quartet anxiously waiting outside, he hit the floor, covering his head, closing his eyes and bracing himself.

And then the orb exploded in a starburst of brilliant light.

The resulting shockwave blew out a few windows, but the rest of MH’s office and the Smash Mansion remained relatively intact.

It was over.

**1.1.1**

Roaring and pounding was in Luigi’s ears as he stood back up, walked over to MH’s desk and deactivated the lockdown. Finally, he unlocked the office door and stepped outside, where MH, Mario, Eden and Lauren waited.

“It’s gone,” he stated simply. “I destroyed it.”

Lauren and Eden thanked God as the tension left MH’s fingers.

Mario said nothing—choosing to throw himself into Luigi’s arms.

“Hey, Bro,” breathed Luigi. “It’s all right. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” cried Mario. “That thing almost…”

“I know,” said Luigi, “but I couldn’t let it grab you, and it had already hurt Master Hand. When I saw it hurtling toward us, I knew that both of us wouldn’t have made it out in time. I had a choice between myself and you. And I chose—you.”

The Bros sank to their knees, continuing to hug wildly.

“Luigi…” uttered MH.

“Hm?” asked Luigi, his head dropping onto Mario’s shoulder.

“Please—don’t do that again,” exhorted MH.

“What else could I have done? That swarm reached out for us, and I just—acted.”

“I understand that,” said MH, “but in the future, could you please let a staff member handle things like this?”

A beat.

“I don’t know if I can promise you anything,” Luigi finally replied.

MH decided to leave the conversation at that—for now.

“Very well,” he said. “It’s time to give the all clear.”

The Bros slowly separated from their embrace and helped each other up, and then Master Hand led everyone to the Smash Mansion’s front yard.

**1.1.1**

When the alarms quieted and the steel coverings retracted, the Smashers allowed themselves to hope.

Excitedly, the reporters wasted no time updating their viewers, who also began to hope.

Almost the whole world watched as the Smash Mansion’s front doors opened, revealing Master Hand, Lauren, Eden, Mario…

…and Luigi.

He’d done it.

He’d f—ing done it!

The Smashers burst into cheers at the sight of Luigi, battered, burned and bleeding but alive. 

Everyone watching from home was cheering, as well.

Even the Boos.

Luigi’s bright, blue eyes swept over the crowd of Smashers. “Is everyone okay?” he quietly asked.

“Us?” Fox asked in confusion. “Yeah—everyone’s okay. Everyone’s okay.”

A relieved smile formed on Luigi’s lips. Nobody else had been injured. He’d done what he’d promised himself he’d do.

“What the Hell happened?” asked Falco.

“Mario and I were helping with the evacuations,” Luigi explained. “Just as we were about to head out, the black swarm came straight for us. I managed to push Mario through the emergency exit before the swarm grabbed me and dragged me into MH’s office. MH was on the floor, badly hurt, and that’s when I made my decision. I barricaded myself in that office with that entity and locked down the rest of the Smash Mansion, preventing it from hurting anyone else. And with help from Master Hand, Mario, Lauren and Eden, I managed to subdue it. It even tried to attack me in my dreams, but I still defeated it. Whatever it is, it’s gone now. I saw to that.”

He glanced at Marth, Roy, Mewtwo, Dark Pit, Kyle and the other Smashers who’d conspired to have his down throw nerfed. “I know what you’re wondering. You want to know why I risked my life for you after the way you treated me. The answer is simpler than you think—at the end of the day, Super Smash Brothers is a family. And all families fight sometimes, don’t they? Most of you realized your mistakes and owned up to them, and one of you is currently helping me tackle a personal problem. What you did was unacceptable—but I’m willing to forgive, and I’m willing to forget. I love you all from the bottom of my heart, and I’m glad Master Hand gave me the chance to be a Smasher.”

The sight of the Smashers, safe and sound, stilled the adrenaline rushing through Luigi’s bloodstream. His eyes clouded over, his body swayed slightly—and then his legs folded from under him as all of the pain and injuries finally caught up.

Mario and MH caught Luigi before he hit the ground.

“Everything’s—gonna be okay…” murmured Luigi.

“Hey. Save your strength,” MH said gently. “We’re gonna get you to the infirmary, all right?”

Luigi nodded.

MH addressed the other Smashers. “On account of this morning’s events,” he said, “today’s matches are cancelled. Use this free time in any way you see fit. Oh, and—all clear, you guys. Thank you for your cooperation.”

A weight lifted itself from the front yard as the crowd of Smashers dispersed and MH and Mario carried Luigi toward Dr. Mario’s office.

**1.1.1**

As Luigi recovered from his injuries, Master Hand, Jimmy, Timmy, Remy, Rory, Lauren, Eden and Mario went over some surveillance footage, hoping to confirm their suspicions about who was behind the near-disastrous containment breach.

MH gasped when he saw two men sneak into the area where the black mass had been kept. “There!” he exclaimed.

“Steve and Stevie?!” balked Timmy. “How on Earth did they…?”

“I don’t know, but I have _some_ idea why they breached the containment,” said Remy.

“A diversion so they could escape unawares?” postulated Jimmy. “Or a final [bleep] you?”

“It could be both,” said Mario.

He clenched his fists. “They’d better pray that someone else gets to them before I do,” he said in a low, shaky voice.

Lauren placed a comforting hand on Mario’s forearm.

“That thing was headed for _me_,” said Mario, “and I was ready to let it grab me, as long as Luigi got out safely. But Luigi got _me_ out safely, allowing the swarm to take him instead. And look what it did to him. He’s in the hospital because of those two. And if I find that Crazy Hand was also behind it…”

“I’ll take care of it,” promised MH.

“Like you did last time?” There was an edge to Mario’s voice.

“I assure you, Mario, the days of things slipping past my radar are over,” said MH.

Mario gave MH and intense look. He could learn to fully trust MH again, but that didn’t mean he could easily forget what had gone down between them.

“First things first, we’ll locate those three,” said MH. “And then we’ll find out what that black swarm was, where it came from, and if Luigi destroyed the last of it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Eden.

“I’d better update Charlie, too,” MH went on. “If they somehow have Chad in their clutches, then they’ll probably be after her, as well.”

“There’s still no word on what happened to Jeff and Bentley,” sighed Rory.

“By the looks of that portal, it’s safe to assume that they’re probably trapped in an alternate dimension of sorts,” said MH. “God, I can’t wait for November.”

“Me, neither,” said Lauren.

Mario remained quiet, but his facial expression said the same thing.

**1.1.1**

Chad was unaware of all of this, still cooped up in an undisclosed location after he’d been used as a punching bag. It had gone on for what seemed like hours, the two Steves taking turns, until their anger had allayed and they decided to give him some solitude to “think about what he’d done”. What was he, five? He didn’t need to think about what he’d done! He knew what he’d done, and he’d do it again if it meant doing the right thing! Every so often, they’d restock on snacks and nonperishable food for him, or they’d bring him McDonald’s or Wendy’s or Subway or some kind of fast food. But more than anything, Chad wanted to go back to the Smash Mansion. He wanted to see Luigi again and know that he was okay. He wanted—he wanted to see Charlie’s face and hold her in his arms.

But the two Steves weren’t about to let that happen. Chad needed to get out of this place? But how?

The door opened, and the two Steves strolled in, accompanied by at least ten other guys. They were big, well-built and strong men, and right off the bat, Chad knew that this wasn’t gonna end well.

“Hello, Chad,” Steve said tersely.

“Yeah?” Chad curtly replied.

“We’re patient men,” said Steve, “but our patience can only stretch so far.”

“And your point?” huffed Chad.

“We’re going to give you one final chance to save yourself before your agony intensifies,” said Stevie. “The name, location, address and room number of the hotel Charlotte Thorne is staying at, if you please. Just say the magic words, and your freedom will be granted.”

Chad rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, you got me,” he said. “She’s staying at your grandma’s house. Are you happy? Can I go now?”

The two Steves were visibly angry, but they kept their rage in check.

“Misery, misery, misery—that’s what you’ve chosen,” said Stevie. “We offer you mercy, and you spit in our faces.”

They moved aside, and the ten other guys gathered around Chad, cruel smiles on their faces. Chad showed no fear, bracing his body and mind for yet another round of Hell, a round which began with a simple nod from Steve and Stevie.

**1.1.1**

Later, Steve and Stevie sent their ten friends away. Objections were raised, but the two Steves were firm about it. Grumbling in displeasure, the ten men filed out of the room, leaving Chad alone with his two main jailers. Then, the two Steves walked over to Chad and knelt in front of him.

“We thought you’d be interested in what Luigi’s up to,” said Steve.

Chad muttered indignantly, barely able to speak due to his new injuries.

“Before leaving the Smash Mansion in our rearview mirror and picking you up,” Stevie said sweetly, “we left a little surprise. And this surprise just so happened to have a vendetta against both Mario Bros.”

“But of course, Luigi just _had_ to play hero and ruin everything,” added Steve. “He took on that surprise all by himself—well, _almost_ all by himself—and won.”

“What’s so bad about that?” slurred Chad.

“Because that would’ve been our explosive exit,” explained Steve. “It’s interesting how the sight of some cold, hard cash can loosen lips. How do you think we found your hotel? How do you think we learned about that black stuff MH coughed up and where it was being hidden? And how quickly will you think we’ll sniff out Charlie if we get tired of waiting for you to stop being a pain and spill—which is very unlikely? You have no idea how long we’ve waited to do something like this to you, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Chad said bitterly.

“We’re gonna leave you to your own devices now,” said Stevie. “We expect to see you in a chattier mood when we get back.”

“That’ll only happen when pigs fly,” Chad said bravely.

“Oh, we’ll see,” Steve said coldly.

And then they left the room without looking back.

Chad could only hope that the Smash World was actively searching for him—and that they’d find him before it was too late.

**1.1.1**

Per Master Hand’s advice, the Smashers made the most of their free day, spending time with friends, family and other loved ones and engaging in relaxing activities. However, the Smashers involved in Project Nerf were extremely shaken, not only over the morning’s events but also over the fact that the man they’d antagonized almost died for them. To say that Luigi’s actions were a wake-up call would be a cliched understatement. Dark Pit, Marth, Roy, Chase, Falco, Rolf, Mewtwo, Kyle and even Koopa, Dorf and Wario took the time to visit Luigi in the hospital, sincerely thanking him for what he’d done. Silently, they vowed to do whatever it took to restore his trust in them and regain some semblance of their lost friendship.

“He’s right, you know,” said Marth. “We _are_ a family. And as such, let’s resolve to treat Luigi better from here on in.”

Everyone else unanimously agreed.

As for Luigi himself, he steadily recovered from his encounter with the black swarm. But the reality of what he’d endured didn’t really sink in until later, when he was surrounded by gift baskets, flower bouquets and get-well cards. Alone in his hospital room with the TV on mute, he allowed himself to quietly break down and release those pent-up emotions, crying in relief that disaster had been averted and crying over what would’ve happened had he acted differently or not acted at all. He wept, tears rolling down his face, his body shaking. He didn’t really know if he’d survive against the black swarm, but he had. It was an entity he hadn’t come across before and was slightly more unnerving than _him_, even utilizing _his_ form during its final stand, and yet he’d triumphed. And in the quiet moments following the battle, Luigi let his walls come down, expelling everything in an emotional torrent.

Mario walked in on the tail end of the breakdown, the weeps subsiding into quiet sniffles and hiccups. Wordlessly, the man in red slipped into the bed beside Luigi, wrapping his arms around him and drawing him close. Luigi leaned into the embrace, snuggling against his bro.

“Just let it go,” encouraged Mario. “Just let it go…”

The portly plumber stayed with his stout-hearted bro for most of the afternoon, leaving only when Dr. Mario had to routinely check on Luigi’s vitals. It was projected that Luigi would be discharged sometime tomorrow morning, but for now, he was advised to take it easy and rest.

“Things are going to be better,” the good doctor assured his patient.

And there was a good chance that Dr. Mario was correct.

**1.1.1**

Crazy Hand wasn’t very happy when Steve and Stevie surreptitiously summoned him to their hideout. As it turned out, he wasn’t behind the black swarm’s attempted rampage, after all. And even though he and MH weren’t on the best of terms, the Hand of Destruction still loved his twin deeply.

“Please, sit,” said CH after making himself at home, and the two Steves could tell by his tone that his “please” was far from a request. It was an order.

The two Steves plunked down onto a nearby couch. “What’s up, CH?” Steve casually asked.

“‘What’s up’?” CH calmly shot back. “This black swarm has been making my brother sick over the past month, and you set it loose on the Smash Mansion without so much as a warning. That’s ‘what’s up’. You endangered my brother’s life to satisfy a grudge match.”

“What does it matter? We have nothing left to lose,” shrugged Stevie. “You said give them something to remember us by, and that’s what we did.”

“By putting my twin in harm’s way?” CH asked incredulously. “King Koopa was right. You can’t restrain yourselves. You never could. And you’re lucky that my brother has a healing factor.”

“Well, CH,” said Stevie, exchanging a look with Steve, “if you truly feel that way about it, then we have just the way to make it up to you.”

“Which is…?” prompted CH.

“The main perpetrator of our downfall is currently in our custody,” explained Steve. “Not only that, he gave us the ultimate middle finger to the face by posting one of our Luigi-related rants to YouTube.”

CH tilted himself quizzically to the side. “Chad?” he asked.

“Chad,” nodded Steve. “We have a lot of anger toward him to let out, but his usefulness to us is swiftly running its course. Currently, he’s ensconced in a room of his own. All you have to do is say the word, and we’ll bring you face-to-face, so you can deal with him in however you seem fit. Our apology gift, if you will.”

“An apology gift,” murmured CH. Then, he brightened. “I like it, you two. If you lead me to Chad’s room, I’ll let your stunt with the black swarm slide. But be warned—it will be the only time I’ll do so. Understood?”

The two Steves nodded vigorously. Even they knew not to get on CH’s bad side.

“Okay, so—where is he?”

Silently, Steve and Stevie led CH to Chad’s room and knocked on the door.

“Oh, Chad?” Steve sang out. “I hope you’re presentable, because there’s someone here to see you!”

An indignant grumble was the sole response.

With a smile, Steve pulled open the door, allowing CH to float inside and scrutinize Chad. The ugly bruises and smears of blood made him look quite—becoming.

“Oh, dear God!” Chad uttered in exasperation. “What do _you_ want?”

CH drank in his sudden good fortune. And then he spoke.

“I wanna get you cleaned up,” he said, “because you and I are going on a field trip!”


End file.
